Her castle is a shadow
puppet's lair built deep into
the gold damp mountains
under the crystal sidewalk
stairs--it's down south,
ancient president--dead
society--fitted beards;
It's a chin up kinda place
at the end of ended streets
a make believe cauldron
beneath wronged stars--mistaken
constellations--scatterd maps--
it's below the sea-level line
an anachronism 4.6 billion times--
it's a home with bladed grass
and circus traps--
it ain't far off the armada's path--
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