Wednesday, September 09, 2020

Pondering the wrath of the vulva
the splashed and hated tables
sprouting a psychedelic life

from the crashed courtyard of velvet
little blades in the wheel of lion's feet

cranes towering with split and bleeding branches
wires eating through rotten ears

and a skeleton of chains battered
by time's worthless fever
and sugar cluster of ants.

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