Flat was the straight air; unperturbed inertial
The purr of anticipation struck chancy
Fraying ends and nerves, observed the thermostat
The witchy night babbled its order, no turning around
We marched in, the gust of frost coating our fronts
Heightening the flow of beads strung behind
The chill ate our crepuscular half-hearts; fuelled molecular rush
Absent thought and brittled desires, we claimed no part of it
If only the night belonged to the night
The insolent heat contended with its upper hemispherical favours
So we could bring with us, as the warmth licked the engines
Nothing more and nothing less
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