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Sep 2014
I've outgrown the hibernaculum I was sewn into
at birth--the beast cannot be tamed
by suppressing the lungs and drowning them in liquors
darker than the sludge inside our bellies.Β Β And full
those bellies have grown; pregnant by the
Bourgeois hands that are fat from a materialistic complex
as though the bounty hung before them is silk
and succulent on the tongue (as they are cut from the mouths).
These minds are like rot in the veins,
and they permeate,
and they anchor,
and they sink into our bones only to remind me
that there is always an ocean to
swallow down
if the land is too dry.
Written by
Swells  25/F/Utah
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