The body and its memory stayed buried in the sand
The thought landed upon my heart and stood tall in the doorway
I felt lonely and unforgiven, I could not remember what I'd done
How does a dream of murder wash the mind?
Reality swept through another time
A question of mine
And I don't know the answer
Or the man in the sand
All the flesh becomes part and parted from the evidence
A guilt, a something we are not
A bag of emptiness capable of thought
The end of the story... floppy and lifeless and waiting to rot
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