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Oct 2016
my heart is in my open eyes
in my speaking
in what i am seeing
rolling up my sleeves
is a profession
of intimacy
with everything
in my immediate vicinity



sometimes i am invincible
sometimes i sway in the wind
like a willow tree
most times i see absolutely nothing
in front of me

and at all times
can i see every colour of the rainbow
my eyes are prisms



my brain is an etch a sketch
everything shakes
ceaseless vibration
fractured soft ellipses collapsing
i see many infinities



i bleed like the writing
in between the writing on the walls
and if i ever hide it
the light sears my clasped fists around it

i lay awake at night
to see stars in my stucco ceiling

i have most of my revelations
on my toilet seat
Written by
machina miller
315
 
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