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Old 12-29-2009, 11:17 AM   #61
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Woman
Written by: We Have Sound

strange to have someone so dependant
that i make her weather
a novelty.
a novelty that scratches and spits and ****s
that makes me sad when
bill withers starts singing
a novelty like that last line
you leave hanging
because none of the words you've ever heard
seem to fit
a novelty with a heart
all too easily broken
with nails
that sometimes have dirt underneath
with skin
that's sometimes all pale and white
and eyes that sometimes cry tears
that sometimes smear her makeup
down her face.

love -
you sly dog
panting at the roadside
begging pennies.
that's love.

in my mind she's not a woman,
she's a new poem in an old notebook
a clash
of souls.


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Old 12-29-2009, 11:17 AM   #62
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Smother
Written by: DorkusMalorkus

Bondage ain't so hot this time of year
They got the leash out again
And the leather burns my skin
Sticky, stuffy, and not at all attractive

Not a year goes by that I don't hear about some poor ****er who asphyxiates himself because he gets off on being left alone tied up, naked and pathetic

Drugs are hot **** this time of year
These kids are always high
And their world is so very tired
Alone, angsty, and unbelievably sordid

Not a day goes by that I see my peers sincere, true, or happy

I sympathize with the naked and pathetic
I try my hardest to be sincere

I want to be tied up and left alone
I want to smother myself
Hands free
But thanks for the help


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Old 12-29-2009, 11:17 AM   #63
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"Brother, I've never been much of a pacifist"
Written by: Bleed Away

Because I am not a sheep. Because I am not a goat;
welcome me to the wastelands and learn to love me
dear Mary. Meet me on the moors and bring with you
your great furnace for eyes
and your affectionate nails for arms.

The **** crows on midnight's gale,
to proclaim upon nations to prepare for war.
Pearls slewed and I trembled
at the reflection of the sky's suburban sea;
like a chariot from heavenís foyer that assails-
why should I love those whoíve done this to me?


Because I chose not to speak of what Iíve seen,
I am a man and one man only. My voice
is an utmost whimper on the sinking planes,
I chose not to speak.

Infantry of dust,
lost content that canít be tamed;
roams a shattered soul.

Death closes all. Death watches all.

Beneath the clear lakes on cotton vessels, I rust away.
As we sailed towards the river Hades the poets sang along
to the clatters of the uneven souls.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:17 AM   #64
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How Many Licks does it Take to Get to the Center of a Gigawatt?
Written by: BigBirdFan


screams of systematic repetition
tuned to the key of C
rejuvenating the pulse
of the pulp on the floor

I found the time space continuum
on my back porch swing
stepping toward the screeching sirens
revealing the past screen by screen

Timing the sun in wrist-watch format
the liabilities not mine
the doormat said "welcome"

you catch my eyes glaring,
hastily waiting for your tears to run
your feet follow in suspended motion

Gunning for the hallway laundry chute
only to find the triggers on safety
the notion alone is enough

reseting the sun dials
with steady hands of anxiety
attacking the knobs at their fastens
My suddle brutality breaks

I wake on the ******* floor
while the screeching of the sirens pull me in

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:18 AM   #65
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Crusifix Blues
Written by: themarsvolta

I want a woman who
Dresses like a carpenter
She wants to be like Jesus
But God wants to be like her

Her hands are wounded
Working a dead-end job
And she spends all she earns
On a thankless God

Now she's up on her cross
And there is no doubt
She likes the weather up there
And she's not coming down

I've got the crucifix blues
'Cause someone else is nailing you

Turned my snake into a staff
With your Levitikiss
Show me your burning bush
Don't show me no Exodus

It'll be a miracle
When I stop talking babel
And start speaking in tongues
That come down on her

But talking dirty
In these damn parables
Is the only way
That I know how to flirt

I've got the crucifix blues
'Cause someone else is nailing you

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:18 AM   #66
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Call It "Unrequited"
Written by: My Name is Pete

From nothing to acquaintance.
Just like that,
she's in my life.
Waving hello in the hallway.
Casual conversations,
wherever possible.
School seems exciting now.
Who would've thought?

From acquaintance to friend.
Somehow we've moved
from petty talks
to Starbucked sermons.
Each brain picked,
we're now tuned accordingly.
Our radio station:
random,
within each other's bounds.

It would be true
if I said
that I loved her.

But she doesn't want that.



From friend to best.
Recognition on walls of shame.
Inside jokes, reserved;
Party of two.
The point where names
aren't exchanged.
We know each other.
We are each other.

She tells me her problems
With her current beau.
And I sit,
listening.
Helping.

It would be true
if I said
that I loved her.

But she won't have it,
and I can't help that.


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Old 12-29-2009, 11:19 AM   #67
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Liquid Genes
Written by: AngryGoldfish


Spilling off the streets
and into the gutters,
the white dove flutters
but fails to perform;
his wings are clipped,
short and snipped.
And all as the cirrhotic crow
gathers, and starts to ascend.

I feel the liquid dreams
are exiled into my genes.
They're always on the shoulder
of love that grows colder.

Innate from infancy,
the blood passes down.
Forever lying in fate,
The drink works in wait.

Leave me the liquor,
I'll bathe in its flicker.

I feel the liquid dreams
are exiled to my genes.
They're perched in the cold,
in trails of genes in the soul.

I can't say I envied them,
but those I have adopted
are blisters flying free,
in the only place I ďcan't controlĒ.

Choice can be ignorance...
And ignorance is never bliss...
Not in here anyway

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:19 AM   #68
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Ms. Apt Diagnosis
Written by: Androgyne
Let's lie in the field of feline flowers
where the blades pierce and the whiskers tickleó

There, can you be free?

where the air is too thick to breathe?
Your lungs will suck dry
and your tortured tongue will swell thousandfold,
but with no gasp to scrape your vocal chords
you canít scream Iím fine!

The Doctors and Gawkers use your choking face
as a gingham bullseye and claim death,
though you havenít even died.
Canít they see your fingers
fishing for mine in the sea of festering stress?
Itís just natural.
But I canít convince you to take that breath
for the doctorsí gloves are the same ones
that suffocate your speech.

How Iíd love your lips to split apartó
for me to kiss and you to speak:
Itís just natural.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:19 AM   #69
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Sierpinski Triangle
Written by: burnobus7337

Winter has exposed
my neurons, my nuisance,
my reminder why
Michigan holds her
on a brown couch
and has penciled in
my irises until they
could not be erased.

There was air that had
a shadow in a lung,
an atmosphere where
clocks faded into years.
numbers together that
would become prime
factors of open windows
on the city skyline.

Winter stayed on
the brown couch,
shadowed-air breathed
awake in the sunroom.
at daylight everything
froze, cracked, and
then resublimed as mirror-
images on the window.

And in the morning
the fractals of chaos
crawled into her globe
as the seasonís first frost.
And in the morning
the similar triangles
fell out of my pockets
into Lake Michigan.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:19 AM   #70
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Anosmic
Written by: Carmel

There are days that just smell slightly different;
you wake up and something's shifted in the air.
Though you know itís not heat, nor the beat of your heart
or the sounds from the street down below,
you just know.
Clever boy, you can sense the intense tension in the wind,
the gentle changes in the angle of the rain coming down;
undeniably obvious and visible to all, it grows heavy and fast,
yet the last person to grasp it,
is her.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:19 AM   #71
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July Predator
Written by: Bleed_Away

One day you will become a woman
unmistakable by design,
moulded within the pillars of divinity-
all forming but one. Secret of the secrets;
the sapphire pavements of the wine rooms
are motionless to some degree.
You are merely caged beneath the orchardís dew
within morality and immortality. But
do you dare stare at the broken column,
can you trail without a murmur?
Clay? The colourless wheels of satiety
between being and nakedness,
scattered. And it stoned me.


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Old 12-29-2009, 11:20 AM   #72
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Woof Woof, Bang Bang
Written by: #1 synth

woof woof, bang bang
dripping pistol
pretty crystals
falling missiles
whispered whistle
her lips quiver
nine months later
no one kissed her
nine months later
sheís a drifter
between her head
and her kidís lungs
nine months later
fallen pistol
bleached white ground
snow bound hounds
police man whisper
ďnote said we shouldnít miss herĒ
police man kissed her
took her daughter
took the dogs back to the station
shook his head
hung up his jacket
threw her in a freezing trashcan
drifted off to sleep
morning ice
skittering mice
up and down the walls
between New York prison bars
a drunk man watches
pretty crystals
melting down
concrete gown
over the ground
falling missles
woof woof, bang bang
silent sound
heavenís hounds
here to take them all
Home.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:20 AM   #73
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Mindy, would you still love me if I shot you and took your money?
Written by: Thomasoman

"Hey Baby,"
It's been over a month since I last saw her.
"I just wanted to let you know,"
Or even bothered talking to her.
"That you're the cutest boy I've known,"
So today I decided I'd lose myself
"The smartest,"
In fantasy;
"The Sweetest,"
Free pornography.
"Most caring."
I searched the internet for a matter of minutes,
"I had a dream about you last night,"
And it didn't take me long to find her.
"We were out in some city,"
A trashy little black-haired girl.
"You were wearing that black shirt I bought you last year,"
She was so pretty.
"You were so handsome."
I fell in love for thirty minutes.
"I told you I loved you."
It wasn't until that evening that I went through my photographs,
"We looked into each other's eyes."
And saw you and I locking lips before a skyline.
"It was so perfect."
We ****ed that night.
"What we have is perfect,"
She moved like a pornstar.
"And I will never forget you."
She looked like a pornstar.
"I'll love you forever."
I fell in love for a night.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:20 AM   #74
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sky soul such sad
Written by: skagitup

people are oceans as winter is was
shower together never because
people like whispers. people. perfume.
how sad it is to forget the moon.

people are stars as spring is a cigarette,
as the telephone rings like an orchestra
outside. an artless abstract never
(the strings of the ocean will whisper together)

sad. soul. such. sky.
the mountains are nothing
i am a plumber
people are oceans as winter is summer.

as the clock ticks kill honour we had.
sky. soul. such. sad.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:20 AM   #75
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because bored narcissism beats tired contrition every time
Written by: hope's downfall

your t-shirt is fluttering with your silly racing heart
as i stare into your eyes.
i've mastered this look.
you know, that one that makes you
slide your hand up my skirt.
and there's hardly any mosquitoes out tonight,
nothing else to hear you belch out
involuntary truths.
visceral honesty.
i giggle.
i blush.
i'm so fucking good at this,
i should probably feel guilty.
but the alcohol's disappearing with the sun,
and i'm feeling better by the second.

orange sherbet clouds linger above you
as i kiss you the way that
makes you take off my shirt.
and this is where you get sentimental.
uncomfortable honesty.
this time you say i'm more beautiful
than i ever could believe.
i don't want to, but i smile.
it's just so cute how you think you've seduced me.

now the stars are shining brighter,
you're breathing harder,
i'm getting drunker.
just a few more swigs, and we'll be done here.
but before passing out, you'll ask me yet again:
how could you not be in love?
and you'll force me into redundancy;
ever-foolish honesty.
because if we're telling the truth,
we've both faked it before.
i'm just better at it than you.

in fact, i'm so good, it hurts.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:20 AM   #76
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"Singing Loudon Wainwright III Songs At Kareoke With Stolen Vocal Chords"
Written by: Stellar_Legs

Claire lay in bed with a down-comforter pulled over her head, a mound of a person wrapped in cotton and blankets in a way that teenagers stuff their beds with life-size decoys of themselves when sneaking out of the house. In Paris they make beds the way a bed should feel. She lay on the left side to preserve the small crease that her sister Hannah had left behind on the right. "I think I've earned this," she said out loud. She poked an arm out from under the covers to grab a pack of Delium cigarettes on the nightstand, knocking over a glass. She waited to light up and eventually fell back asleep. The concierge awoke her from her sleep.
"Ms. Claire, you have a phone call."
"No calls, Dante, let me sleep. And find my cigarettes."
"They're lying right beside you, Ms. Claire."
He walked into the back room where the phone sat off the hook.
"I'm sorry Ms. Iva, but Ms. Claire isn't able to talk at the moment."
"Dante, you give her the phone, even if you have to tape it around that thick head of hers."
Dante returned to the bedroom, phone in hand, stretching the cord all the way.
"Ms. Claire, it's your sister. She insists you answer her."
Dante placed the phone by her head.
"Iva."
"Claire, I'm standing outside the building. Let me in."
"I'll have Dante fill out the correspondance and then you can -"
"Claire, have him buzz me in, goddamnit."

Iva walked down the hallway in a fevered hurry, begast to a conversation that would stretch on for hours and required not an ounce of haste to marathon herself down the hallway like a police officer. The doors of the Bellvue Apartment complex were faded baige decorated in nothing more than room numbers and peep-holes. Except for the one at the end - The door had been hand-painted lavender some years ago and laminated on the front was a Gregor Namsoinski line - "Liking people and liking life. Riverbends lit up by light. Dancing flurry, laughing sigh. Let's be humans for awhile."
Iva let herself in.
Claire was upright in bed smoking her black Delium as Dante cleaned up the wine stain on the side of the bed.
"There was a lost passage in the New Testament," said Iva. "Archeologists discovered it."
"And what did it say?"
"The Lord said unto thee 'Black chemically enhanced clove cigarettes are not thy work of my father thy Lord, bur rather the work of Paris, it's ne'er do-wells and faded, crusty hipsters."
"Spare me this please."
Claire hopped out of bed and paced to the bathroom completely nude.
Dante nervously coughed and averted his eyes.
"I've come to tell you that it's incredibly unhealthy that you've been living in Hannah's room for the last two months, wearing her clothes, using her bathtub. Mom has sent me as dispatch to bring you back to Manhattan."
"Stuffy old Manhattan. You can't climb trees in Manhattan. Here I can pick any old tree from my balcony window and say 'I'll climb you today, fellow.' And I do it. Often."
Iva took a seat on the bed, careful to avoid Hannah's imprint.
"How do you see trees from 34 stories up?"
"It's a special telepathy. Me and the trees. Great minds think alike."
Claire returned from the bathroom wearing a pink low-rise spaghetti strapped dress that had come right out of a Lotus Vintage catalog.
"I like Paris, Iva."
"Are you still in mourning?"
"Hardly."
Claire sat next to Iva and passed her a cigarette.
"Poor Hannah."
"Poor Hannah..."
"How many guys did you **** in High School, you think?" asked Claire.
"You're devious...Not as many as Hannah."
"Poor Hannah...she got the worst end of it I do believe, wouldn't you say? Raped by the Science Club."
"And by that loathsome Phys. Ed. teacher."
"Snnnagggle Toooooth Smile."
The girl burst into uproarious laughter, falling over each other and the floor.
Dante poked his head around the corner with a grin.
Iva was rolling around on the floor holding her stomach.
"Jesus shit."
She stood up and walked to Claire, brushing the brown hair out of her face and pulling her straps back around her shoulders. Iva walked to the balcony window. In the right hand corner on the glass was another Namsoinski line - "Dilly dally, shilly shally." Iva opened the sliding glass door and threw the cigarette butt over the railing from the inside carpet. She turned to Claire.
"Show me where she jumped."

The girls headed out onto the balcony. A small fenced area that could fit a chair, a small in-table and nothing else.
"She wrote out here, I believe."
Three feet above their heads was a cement ledge that protruded from the top of the door frame. An easy climb for someone nimble enough to climb even the dankiest tree. Iva pulled the in-table close enough and both girls climbed the ledge. They stood on top of it looking out across the city. Three inches of their shoes stuck out and keep a solid footing proved difficult.
"She was a true blue. I applaud her. In a sense, she overcame her fear of heights."
The girls leaned against the back of the wall.
"What were in her pockets again?"
"She was completely nude. I can't believe you failed to remember that. They say as she passed the floor windows, every tenant on every floor popped their head out to watch her fall, like a dominoe reaction almost."
The girls climbed back down to the balcony and Iva re-arranged the in-table back against the railing.
They headed inside and closed the glass door.

"This isn't healthy Claire, and it's not going to get any better."
Claire curled back up into bed and pulled the comforter to her chin. She placed her Delium pack back on the nightstand.
"Just give me one more week. Can you stay that long?"
"Here?"
"No, not here. Somewhere else. I can't stand for anyone to be here right now."
Iva slowly walked to the lavender Namsoinski riddled door and cracked it open.
She ran her hands up and down the frame.
"I won't tell you that you have a chance to save your marriage, because you don't. When you up and left, Shane disappeared. I can't say if he'll return."
"Shane can stay gone. Everything now is bigger than my relationship to him."
Iva walked out into the hallway.
"I'll see you tomorrow. One more week, okay?"
She shut the door.
Claire sat back up in bed and lit another clove cigarette. She got back up and headed towards the ******* to pour a glass of wine. A Coudeux for a reason. Unopened for a reason. Centered to the left of the china cabinet for a reason. The apartment had been blueprinted on perfect reasoning and perfect occurances that matched Hannah's scheme of things. The telephone rang.
"Dante, could you please get that?"
Another ring.
"Dante?"
Yet another.
Claire hurried to the living area and took the call herself, invigorated in some strange form of ghost control and haunted balconies.
"Hello?"
Heavy breathing filled through the wiretaps and a woman's raspy voice came out the other end -
"You'll die alone up there if you're not careful."
The phone clicked.
Claire crawled back into bed with her glass, sat it on the table, threw the rest of her pack of Delium's in the waste basket by her bedside, pulled the comforter over her head and cried and cried and cried for the remainder of her last week in Paris ghosthunting.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:21 AM   #77
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The Best I Can Give Is 2%
Written by: Fly, Marlowe

embraced each other like defeat,
in the wee hours, we
sunk bourbon down thirsty throats
burned the chill, swallowed the choke, and
swapped healthy for sane. We may
have flooded out our love, but at
least we drowned the pain.

donít cry over

We ordered out and
ate with sticks.
I swallowed words
and a paper slip, that read
like an obituary.
You told a joke like a secret,
stretched a crooked smile,
and between blushing cheeks whispered:
Weíre like books. When weíre opened,
Weíre red.

That one just killed me.
Still showing teeth stained read,
you mop me up like
spilled milk.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:21 AM   #78
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North and West
Written by: Spike_8bkp

when I wonder why,
I see my compass only
points me north and west.

Spinning on its axis
deriving light from cold
dizzy when I wake up
confusing the floor with snow

but maybe I'm not delusional,
and maybe she's not dancing
with escape but simply flying
without the aid of duct tape

Speaking in rotarian terms,
we're talking atmosphere in
earnest, beauty belayed
screaming slopes that force

you to cope with the wrath
of the earth and her solid
confines from which we
have been freed to see
her from her summits

without psychotic prophets
prone to moving stones and
handing out eternal life.
So, worry not, my friends in strife,

Any of your lords will do the trick.
And for those without, the sun will suffice.

Latchkey sheep are soaring, too,
at majestic altitudes of
forty two thousand, six hundred thirty
soon they may retreat

or begin to drop bombs.

Whatever their decision,
I hope it coincides
with your choice of gods.

Printing out redundancies
and posting them on walls
will attract the moths -
yes, those suicidal pests
worth so bloody much
to the Buy-a-knees

Liver, contraption heart killer
Arsonist sinner sitting in the corner
Bridges have been collapsing on his
back for so long, he cannot walk across them.

And yet he wishes to not be broken
Please hold while he recovers the
ashes; reconstructing begins.

grip tornadoes with the nerves it takes to move
drive percussive forces from the lips with which
she soothes

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:21 AM   #79
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Soundwave Erosions
Written by: themarsvolta


Climbed a lifeguard ladder,
God asked me ďWhatís the matter?Ē
Said ďIím spying on the world.Ē
He said ďSon, you canít lie
With that war paint in your eyes,
Youíre hunting Goliathís girl.Ē
Iím too passive-aggressive,
Compulsive-obsessive
Not to give this a whirl.
Long walks on the beach
On the shores of Normandy,
Breaking gun shells for pearls.

Por que la sirena
No sabe nadar
En la agua bendita.

Then I sat all alone,
Skipping Rolling Stones
Outside your bedroom window.
An endless pitter patter
To make the ocean shatter
And drown your Romeo.
But canyon corrosions/
Soundwave erosions
Are as weak as Cupidís bow.
So I sat in the middle
Of the waves and ripples,
Sinking like DiCaprio.

Por que la sirena
No sabe nadar
En la agua bendita.

The cigarette boats
With their cancerous smoke
Brought ĎSalemís cargo tonight.
And the messiah king
Heard the siren sing,
So he flooded all his shrines.
But the harpoon hunters
With their crucifix lovers
Will be begging for their lives.
Through the Judgement clouds
I heard Goliath shout,
ďJesus, get away from my wife!Ē

Por que la sirena
No sabe nadar
En la agua bendita.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:21 AM   #80
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Pleurals
Written by: DśmŲnika

Hemispheres and latitudes turn on their heads
and embrace one another. An incision,
so precise it gains second glances,
splits the subject in two. A gasp then,
so faint it could be mistaken for a sigh
made by a lover in the deep still of the night,
echoes a softness; a pillow on a padded wall.

Inside, the prize. Innocence, in a sense,
takes the form of many figures and eights,
a pair of harmlessness. An indication with
a crimson-gloved finger shows the damage,
darkness where health should be. A bold suggestion
that the subject suffered terribly, and another
gasp, another made from a sigh.
The voice of Man; smoking kills.
The voice of Child; so does time,
we still like to keep it.

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