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The twin blood spots are still there,
Though the snake you idly doodled on your hand is faded,
Yet the blood spots still seem like its eyes,
Still glinting to remind us of its presence,
Permanently etched beneath the surface,
Dragged down beneath twisted silk lines,
The web of spiders that haunt your mind and palm,
The worn stone of your idle insanity,
The reminders of your deepness and ancient ideologies,
I'll forgive you these creases ,for if nothing else they are distinctively yours, and I choose them to etch into my memory as a reminder of the rich tapestry of your mind.