The first year of blood was drowned in the ocean matted steel lined the straw chaff's brittling downs the cracks in the pavement enveloped the world, and the call centres melted to sand \ you speak through a hole in your chest ah, no , not missing, more just estranged from itself (don't worry mines bigger) \ the second was garrotted on the sinews of cloth its body dumped by the bay the opaque gloss in its eyes shattered to dust, as the blue and red lights echoed away \ your smile's apodeictic, dressed in your stretcher of red the world tumbles round your kneecaps swollen kisses dripped out of glistening thread \
the third took seventeen bottles of pills and breathed heaven through a canal of rolled mortgage bills. It swallowed its repayments through a rusted spray-can and swam in bleached birch trees by the sea \
i had a theory that day; “it's all a false dichotomy, one side to two coins: eat the apple, be banished from heaven; eat the pomegranate, be imprisoned in hell.” you made fake retching sounds and we laughed at the esoteric stupidity, but when the bus arrived at the gas station early we found we'd left the tickets in the hotel lobby. \
\ the forth died in conception never to know the carress of the real while the fifth was born a billowing desert but died a still field of glass.
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my lungs are chocking on empty air they just want to fly, but I keep them trapped here.