These people stand downright precariously
Willingly so, in fact
Carrying a rather unnatural ability to turn everything on its absolute knife-edge – to utterly up-ship, worm on in, strip us of all of our once fairytale, outright heroic surroundings
Earning none of it whatsoever
Pounding constantly atop our stop-start hearts over and over again
Never-ending albeit with an equally delicate tapestry at hand, surprisingly so
Our wicker-work shoulders try as they might to hold their very own
They taking our rather feathersome necks and twisting them fair evenly into petrifying submission
One
By
One
An agonising crack at a forlorn time, there is no real rhyme, no honest-to-goodness reason
Regretful existences within a freeze-frame minute
Dangerous admittance by the end on their joker-smiled, deceitfully made-up part altogether, sounding us typically right the entire way out
With a silently instigated finger pressed once more fair evenly against our each and every trembling lip
Stripped

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