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C
Poems
Jul 2010
I: The Monstrous Short.
I will feed you
false
hood, calling it callous desire - you seed me with false gods and blame me for a child I did not sire.
There are witches in your words, and they are
burn
ing down my holy places.
I look out across our
bound
less lake and sit upon a throne built from bones of the long since rotted carcass of my mistake.
Written by
C
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