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Mote
Poems
Mar 19
Untitled
what’s it like, god asks.
god, who will never know blood. who will never know meat. who will never wake, one day, teething. animalic. mawed
i don’t know, i say.
i’m not honest. chimeric, my body coils around a clutch of eggs. i will test their shells, one by one, with the tip of my most solemn tooth
before i remember what i am.
Written by
Mote
31/F/Michigan
(31/F/Michigan)
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kfaye
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