souls with soles

we live in a land where the footprints of

ghosts linger

sinking into the clouds

the soles of souls

swirling in the soupbowl sky

slighting sunrays off their backs

laughs of life loll up high

like lyre strings they are snatched

plucked by the bodies of wispy gasps

mouths that hunger to be heard

pool with smoke

stain the night black

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