where did the idols go?
if you could remember...
we as sovereign letters of light
breathed
inn, O yeah, there was no room
and yet the words survived...
the words,
passively pyramid ing
pirated
philanthropy
and the snake was Her before you were
coiled legible
for the ones with green thumbs
and yet we stutter over what is believable
slanting
at least the traffic is slanted
drivers driving to their dens
awaiting inert coiling
coiled uncomfortable
naturalizing identity...
like a wolf acting like he cares wether
or not a tie is double breasted
even though it makes me look like i give a damn
i do....
but not like this...
because when you wake up with make-up on you feel it
and its on your pillow
until wash day.
when everything feels clean.
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