Brown Bess
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O ye of many faces, whose stumbles seal the coffin
A bloom to bring the latest cos trials shed too often
In whispers fake an orchard, affection just like coughing
Belies the lately tortured; can't hide or make it soften
The mask you kept eliding grows warped in its concealing
Its grin I fight abiding despite an endless healing
This risk entails some chances; pulseflutters utter their name
Approaching through the branches, heatstroke blurs the barrel's aim
Ears ring