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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