their spidery womb,
a redundant lightburst,
two fingers that come out
from the pursed lips
faltering in granite.
Under the spray of crashing worlds
electrified blood
bones gnawing at shrunken air
the desk and fountain crater,
light goes back to its socket in space,
the strum of a beaten torso
makes a fist of the defiant head
peering from a hand crafted ledge.
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