This binary land

Is boon and bane,

Pleasure and pain,

Both sun and rain.

These projected forms are

Also thorns

In sides that serve

As fairground rides;

The breaking gentle kissing

Heart that seeks

To join and never part;

These angry knives,

That tear through fears

And cultivate

This field of tears,

Will one day lie upon a bed

And see the truth

In what they said.

And then the darkest hole of all

Will bear up on them

As they fall.

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