Cyborg lovers
rusting behind the back shed
like a discard amusement park thrown
together in a heap and the rains
slither slide down
but oh!
the lovers rust together
decals gone the way of names
faced etched with acid, bodies
and bodies eroded by time
but no vines none
no nothing grows on them
save rust and the ticking rain
memories but always
there is a
but oh!
the rain tinkles! tickles! makes
such sweet songs but sad?
No. Nothing lasts forever
and sometimes people call them art.
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