on a bearskin rug
who's left angry
but flat.
Give me
your lightning
and put it through
my body
like knowledge.
Take my glass
once sand burned clear
to hold booze
swirling like danger.
Hold my
nebula so I
can give you stars
from my
dust blanket.
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It's awesome that after I read the title but before I read who posted this poem, I knew it belonged to Jeremy.
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