Light-feathered mirages however intense
Quick, sell them before waking up
priests of propriety and of windup
Sell me potions of memory and loss
Throw in a few half-hearted goodbyes
Have you cultural idioms from the past
For my rusted picture frames at last
Bags of clouds, strings of unheeded hour
Have you rainflower shower, arm-lock our
Life lurks to steal these moonbeams
Oh sell me braided jasmine dreams
Pray why do you look away?
Will all my dreams suffice to make you stay?
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