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The Word to Follow Young is Not Quite Love

You came to know me How you gave me face Gave me name Titled credibility And privilege when you spoke of me Amongst those held in esteem Wonder now If you might rob me Rape me of things I have come To need To want To believe Snarl words at me Like rabid dogs And slash down fondness With awkward silence Of church and business Giving way to languages Of far off districts Inhabited by sailors and whores Steal you their tongue I know you can Have heard you talk Like breaking bottles Sharp flecks of empty Thrown out of car windows Catching light Exploding fireworks on the sidewalk Screaming out into the heat Before I was old enough To understand such suggestions
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Written by
haileystapleton
Canadian
Published
Feb 3, 2011
Lines·Words
35·123
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