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Harley Hucof Jul 2020
It is from your synthetic relations that i learn
what to make of, and how to observe
the traumas that once occured.

Transformed,
Translated into words
To lighten up the burden
Of the destiny flowing in my nerves.

Chosen for me or impregnated
The path is created
Before the men that walks it to get mutated
Together in your synthetic relashionships.


Words Of Harfouchism
Aliens are the new religion
Mandi Wolfe Apr 2020
“Emotionally Impregnated”
was the phrase that came to mind
when I tried to make sense
of what had happened to me
half way through listening to
the song he had sent

“You know you gave me all the time
Oh, did I give enough of mine?”

It was the unchangeable joining
of thought and feeling that produced
within me a growing emotional experience
that no more asked permission to be
than did any other seed and egg.

“Say you don’t know me anymore
But that’s a bullet on your floor”

I have never been a reliable narrator though
how many negative tests have I produced
even amid ******* that imagined they were swollen
nausea that persisted for days
and blood that stained sheets much later than expected?

Had I just spent the last two years
in an elaborate emotional pregnancy scare?
Had the joining of lyrics
of hungry bodies
of insatiable hearts
produced within me an embryo of empty hope?

Have I sabotaged my own lifeblood
in a desire to force from my womb
some monstrous and malformed product
of what had been lifegiving friendship?
I don't think this is done yet but I needed to put it somewhere before the feeling was gone... ya'll get that right?

— The End —