Be foot hustlin'
mind hot burnin'-like
Be soul rainin'
cold cool—like mercy.
Spark ideas jumpin’
'round misty notions,
never to ignite.
Ear white. Hear black, or:
just the words left to right,
see. Eyes be light. See,
heavy tones in flight.
So, if matter is in an ever grey state,
then what whispers murky fate?
May (it) be an inkling that say:
A beating heart feels just right.
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