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[icon] A Slow Migration - When sparkles and death...
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Subject:A Slow Migration
Time:08:00 pm
What is this

Relentless outcry

Of wrong against the skin
Of my body

Forming bloodstains?

(I only know
That his name
Is inside me like
A needle waiting
To be tapped)

His blood is thick
Inside my spaces

And every face turns

To say I'm so sorry

But maybe it's just as well.

IT'S NOT THAT I DON'T
WANT TO BE THIS ANGRY

EVERYONE THINKS
THEY KNOW HOW TO HURT SOMEONE

BUT A CLEVER TURN OF PHRASE WORKS BETTER
THAN A POCKET KNIFE

THROUGH THE PALM OF MY HAND;
A SINGLE POINT OF LIGHT

UNDER THE DOOR;
AM I LEAVING HERE?

His eyes were flat black
In the dark

With our fingers mingling.
The light outside

Our window fading.

(I only know
That his name
Is inside me like
A needle waiting
To be tapped)

We're leaving again.

The car's ready.

My bags are packed.

IT'S NOT THAT I DON'T
WANT TO BE THIS ANGRY

His hand touches the sheetmetal car

BUT A CLEVER TURN OF PHRASE WORKS BETTER
THAN A POCKET KNIFE

My eyes watch the trees pass.

A SINGLE POINT OF LIGHT
UNDER THE DOOR;

We're leaving everything.
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[icon] A Slow Migration - When sparkles and death...
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