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I said I got to be free,
Opinionated,
Energised muscle mass.
I want equality.
Solidarity.
Fiercely piecing parts
Together, unhinged.
Sedition of the highest
Saturation.
I want sexiness
Tinged with challenge.
I said I got to be free.
And she just looked
At me, blankly.
Go do it then.
Boldly, and stop
Limply gawking
Through the windows
Of social media.
Shut your mouth
And vote with your hands
Begin the work first
In the mirror,
On your pillow, expand.
Then at the chapter
Of your voice,
Edit, rewrite and
Breathe into truth.
Then feast on choice.
Love yourself
Into action.
Stop your talking,
She said,
And go do it.
Our daddy,
Who's name is Kevin
Shallow is thy shame
Thy kingdom, ***.
Thy will is numb,
On earth,
As it is never questioned.
Give us this due pay,
And daily ****** fed.
And forgive us our trespasses,
Just as you protect those
Who trespass against us.
And breed us not into occupation
But deliver **** from elbow.
For mine is the ******,
The power,
And the history,
Forever and ever.
Avenge.
I am boy
          I am girl
I am neither
          But her toy
Drag me rigid
          Along your rigid
I am hot
          From your spirit
Digits
          Count me in now
I am play
          I am want
I am centre,
          You are front.
Sell me not hence,
Dukes of ****.
Machine ****
And machine washed.

Let me eat my egg
In peace,
my ripe mango.

Force me not
To sell my mouth
To rent my lymph

Dukes of ****,
Please,
Silence your urethra
Your meatus operandi.

I will shut my door now
(If I still own it)
Beat your chest
In anothers field
While you still can.
Beautiful ugliness
Untamed hair
Stained fingers
Trace spirits in the air
Peek past the shroud
To peel off pretty
Feast dementedly
On grit and giddy
Who's guttural laugh is this?
Who's voice with
No sorry's left?

Who is this animal
Who lays out their words
In mosaic rapture?

Sometimes shaking,
Reshaping, reshapened

Who's are these?
And these?
And these?

Bitten hands biting,
Who are they fighting?
DMT curiosity *******,
Rage romancing

Who's face is this
Who's arms,
who's wide legs
of audacity spread?
I think I like them,
Dare I say 'love'?
Is that allowed,
Is that arrogant?
The way they think
The depths and dark
Their endless analysis
Their lone laugh.
God, the eyes...
Sometimes cheeky,
Sometimes blank
Stone-blue grief chasms
Flecks of menacing.
Im confronted
And comforted.
They stir me like
I've stirred them,
Both in survival
And in good will.
The way they talk with
Their hands, freed,
The way they cry
Whenever the need.
I like them, I think.
Hearing their wit
Tranquilising wisdom,
I want more and more.

Can you write me?
Can you write me a poem?
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