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 Jun 2016 Wanderer
Rapunzoll
i raised her
with a violent birth
my vocal cords tangled
like a drunk couple
making love
with her name.

she emerged from
the slit in men's throats,
a grown woman,
her sister followed,
from suffocated coughs,
glowing like streetlamps
from mouth to mouth,
never happy,
never settled.

girls like her,
they don't enter this
world easy,
they leave it in a mess,
exit it like a highway,
move on to the
next place.

there's a stain they
always leave,
yellow on the teeth,
marks on bed-sheets,
empty rings on
bedsides with last
nights drink
gone cold just like
their feelings.

just a girl they say,
harmless,
girls have endless love
in their hearts,
and endless hate.
© copyright
 Jun 2016 Wanderer
JR Rhine
I'm dreadfully afraid of silence,
so I play the music loud in my stereo--

falling asleep with the ringing in my ears,
like the distant echo of heaven.
It's heaven.
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