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You made me drink my metal days
To drip with liquid Monday iron.
You melt my steel of Wednesday tread
To thirst on still and solid Friday.
I’m drunk, tick-tack, with metal days
To make your gold from my zinc hours,
To fuse my copper with your name,
To cast your body in my iron.
The metals lost my name and shape
To forge your flow in my still habit.
You mix the metals of my days.
You mould my days in melting metals.
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