In its silent tell-tale dusty signatures
Left as fine red dusty whispers
Here saga's of night vigils etched
On pock marked red granite slabs
Where many a feet circumbulated
And some rolled around in dim lights
beneath starry schorl nights
locked in passionate embraces
Collecting the forever red tattoo’s
Under peaked slopping roofs
Layered with kiln baked red tiles
And the intermittent glass slab
Letting in the silver moonlight
And the star light on moonless nights
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