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Bitter black drop to the tongue, Vacuum pulling in air molecules Which are indifferent to the creases In a disgusted face When it draws back its grimace. I thought you were a bad thought, An unwholesome feeling, But then I remembered it is beautiful To think or feel anything at all How do I court thee, Death? Infinitely peripheral lover Itch in the corner of the corner of my eye Which I cannot scratch-- Impetus of strange feelings Agoraphobia and claustrophobia And their sister philias Black and white magic pattern that belies everything. Somehow, death, you are not yourself Just as a vortex in a sink does not really exist, if you understand me You are the fractal edge of a part of my life And in trying to define you I arrive on the other side, I am somehow me. And in this way I thought you were bitter, But actually, you're sweet. You are the taste of meat
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Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 5:24 AM UTC
An odd poem about death
Bitter black drop to the tongue, Vacuum pulling in air molecules Which are indifferent to the creases In a disgusted face When it draws back its grimace. I thought you were a bad thought, An unwholesome feeling, But then I remembered it is beautiful To think or feel anything at all How do I court thee, Death? Infinitely peripheral lover Itch in the corner of the corner of my eye Which I cannot scratch-- Impetus of strange feelings Agoraphobia and claustrophobia And their sister philias Black and white magic pattern that belies everything. Somehow, death, you are not yourself Just as a vortex in a sink does not really exist, if you understand me You are the fractal edge of a part of my life And in trying to define you I arrive on the other side, I am somehow me. And in this way I thought you were bitter, But actually, you're sweet. You are the taste of meat
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Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 5:24 AM UTC
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