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Literature Text
somehow my whole body rejects realization
and when it came, it came. and the forcefield grazed
spongy flesh, concrete spine remained uncrushed.
arachnid blot on the naked floortiles,
anger i'll hide. a painting
of limbs in the headlights swerve
slapping screaming, toxicity
flashcorpsesflash
collapse columns, colonies, caravans turn
their sand-studded backs.
let them rub their bodysuits with lather
and scab-suds. let them.
wished to sink back in a body of water,
now every ocean a shower,
and.
child of light, pure potency of skin,
making carpets curl their toes as you unlock
walls of strange corridors and
alight on library chairs. maybe
i stay above sea level
to be worthy of your
find it, in the stained-glass wrecked car
windows at daybreak, elsewhere,
to be worthy of your
innocence, i'll find it.
and when it came, it came. and the forcefield grazed
spongy flesh, concrete spine remained uncrushed.
arachnid blot on the naked floortiles,
anger i'll hide. a painting
of limbs in the headlights swerve
slapping screaming, toxicity
flashcorpsesflash
collapse columns, colonies, caravans turn
their sand-studded backs.
let them rub their bodysuits with lather
and scab-suds. let them.
wished to sink back in a body of water,
now every ocean a shower,
and.
child of light, pure potency of skin,
making carpets curl their toes as you unlock
walls of strange corridors and
alight on library chairs. maybe
i stay above sea level
to be worthy of your
find it, in the stained-glass wrecked car
windows at daybreak, elsewhere,
to be worthy of your
innocence, i'll find it.
Literature
recovery crawl
beating
is kinder
than leaving.
sometimes I wish
your last words were
movements.
a hand against my cheek,
a fist to my chest,
an arm around my neck,
nails on my wrist.
the ache more real
and easy
to find.
every night I ache and
I point all over.
mostly my heart,
mostly my mind,
to the words stuck
that won’t loosen
that wedge themselves
in my teeth and fall out when
I’m drunk,
in his lap. he doesn’t need them, boy
that loves me until his
teeth rot, who says I don’t
deserve you who constricts
my waist with his hands and who
whispers I love you before
we fuck. he’s got courage like
the front lines of war
Literature
Rewriting Leviticus
I’m obsessed with the trade of
beautiful people and especially wives or slaves
or prostitutes who were at times the most
educated, independent, but those were just
exceptions, weren’t they, unlike the men who
wore their perfumed skins like softest leather
and then smothered them under their
mass delusions of hysteric femurs screaming
about a revolution to come and rip
their penises straight from their bodies,
and I think; whales have a language
we don’t understand, there’s never been
a system of government that doesn’t become
Feudalism in practice. I prayed to a god 3 times a day
just because someone told me t
Literature
Of All the Places in the Universe
She was a button girl. Thirteen and already too old to be beautiful with grimy cheekbones accented by listless, golden-gray hair. She spent her time trying to sell her collection, dozens of buttons lined neatly in a haggard box. The large one with tiny flowers etched into them, a plain navy one, and the bright pink button were her favorites. They were the ones she hoped would find a home in some little girl's cherished dress or a mother's apron.
With her coat straining around her, eyes crowded with years of cold and unease, she held out her box to a passerby. Buttons flashed in the muted light, but the man scoffed as he continued past her. S
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i shamelessly stole the current placeholder title from the paper chase (i love them)
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