The hanged man
did his two-step
shuffle,
met me in his
labyrinth gardens
near that talking Sphinx
in Egypt.
He smiled his
cheshire grin
to the moon and
then back again
to me.
Lime lips
and prison walls
let go of themselves,
cascaded downward
to free the spirits
mad with sex and death,
roaming the planet,
get wet
and dissolve.
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