Wednesday, November 24, 2021

The rifts between your hills
and open womb
are alphabets of earth

diamond studded caverns
bloody mailboxes
rubber teeth to zip the wounds
that time has pornographed

a pear shaped mouth
above a concrete cabin
shimmering with nuclear tongues

icicles from fingertips
that ring a synthetic sun
its roaring center
frail follicles of bulbwork

taint cubes of descending space.

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