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1 20%
1 20%
3 60%
Voters: 5.

She awakens from a night
of tossing and teething,
as fresh as the lint
in my pocket. Set to go
about her daily routine
of courting bishops
and birthing saints,
it seems she's left
her solace in the
hands of giants.


i breathe and wait in ones and ohs,
and hear your voice through on-off clicks.
i measure each lift on LCD,
found in date stamped honesty.
but the only digits in my dreams
touch and trace and rest as one.

Beauty Isn’t Skin Deep, But We Are

We look around waiting for each others lies to fall,
As we sway in the trance.
But then we realize that this is just one big masquerade ball,
So we just shut up and dance.