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Meteor City Boy

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Wind through the branches.

The tree has had its limb cut before it could grow.

Wind through the ropes.

Hands tied high, the puppet dances.

Its insides are eaten by a crow.

"10 more limbs to go." A greeting, and a warning.

Another requiem is beginning, the remaining limbs are filled with woe.

Wind through the gently swaying body, waiting.

Born as no one, the death of a shadow.