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Inherent Instinct
You lance my nerves,
electric acid that speeds along the veins in a comfort greater than any
I have ever known,
not since my mother squeezed me to death
have I felt this milk flow down the throat and into my stomach in
drops of realization for what I want,
what I need
a perfect precisionary provider of providence and pain receivables,
like the bay at the back of the UPS
that brown truck pouring it’s packages of hope, love, and disappointment.
Before I can run I walk and
everything that was once
born from me is now silent;
eased into the softest communion I have ever known.
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