A Slaying
The truth was never so fierce
And stabbed into
His side
Mickey began to bleed out
The most beautiful song
You ever heard
A chorus of a million birds
Praising the first dawn
I thought
O’ my, Mickey
The tongue is the sharpest blade
Will you make an angel?
Will you smear the notes
Against the pavement in harmony?
Picasso predicted you
And here you are, beautiful one,
Dying in melody
On the cold street of desire
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