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and you could have it all, my empire of dirt

(ah jeez, reems of paper just floating around with words i wanted to put here.  and now i’m just frozen, rusted again). 

remember that concrete statue in my garden, the one with the jasmine growing over her sandaled feet?
well now she’s waist deep.
she used to stay up all night
now all she does is sleep.
it’s lucky that she cannot speak
for if she could, you just might weep.