Friday, November 06, 2020

A high platform
with a glowing chair
the prize of the lashing clouds
an electric dawn
descending down a toilet bowl.

Moss upon the sun
pricked soil breaking open
a ring of tongues
doused in novocaine.

Arms toiling through dimensional spray
a tank of stomach lining
overturning a tinfoil street
poles rising from the broken crust
one melted numeral
blooming into myriad fleshpots
a lunar scimitar
carved into the tower of scrolls.

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