You're Weirdly Wondrous

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What kind of crazy life is this?
You've put on your paper shoes,
That tingle with the tiny wink
Of all the things you lose.

You're dancing on the faces of
People who seem to see you
In skins of concealed hatred,
Since they have nothing else to do.

Your words are quite merciless;
Your bones are poor but strong.
Wind up the machine of your heart,
And just let it rattle on.

Blown pupils, shining teeth,
And passionate embraces.
Running around in dizzy squares
With dirty, sparkling faces.

There's something that's spectacular
In the frantic way you sleep.
There's a violent kind of beauty
In the lies you somehow keep.

You stroll in golden moonshine
And scream during the day.
Your fire burns so lazily -
And I won't let it run away.

My favourite moment's when over
Your shoulder our gazes meet:
You give me, slyly, a little smirk,
And I smile back, accepting defeat.

What kind of crazy life is this?
That's what they always ask us.
I cannot give a straight answer,
But it's something weirdly wondrous.

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