where I made my vomit
van-driven entrance,
with the oil of
a smashed-in face,
biting at the sun like an enemy
I make the fish sneeze
in the pool where I wait.
Bitter halves
naked down to their seed sunk
or disconnected womb
watch me climbing
from their dead words
to be free in vapor
and disintegrating loss
a golden club of eyes
marked red with ripped cells
and ear drum photos
the pulse of glue that collects
wounds.
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