In my chest between the cleft of my breast

I felt the pull of being satisfied and full

Beneath was the beat of a disturbed heart

Chaos rhythms and a fearful start

There your death was foretold

In my heart it lies, to behold

In this dream, a restless slumber

Counting in the labyrinth without number

Lack of sense without a cause

And no time to take pause

Dear sister, I wish you well

As I cast doubt upon this now broken spell

Full of fears of fluorescense

Egg shells, acids and floral essence

A gut mixed of full emotions

Made up from the most dramatic potions

But if a goat is to traverse a mountain

She had better drink from the poisonous fountain.

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