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*title removed due to profanity*
there are pieces of me you hurriedly decease
as contraptions catching mice in these hallways,
the tile on the wall, mildewed, peeling and chipped.
sweep the broom across linoleum like a toothbrush
that never got used quite enough;
the teeth sharpened to blunt points
that only make the bite on your inner thigh
that much more painful – peaceful.
should you love me?
should you hold this deformity like it is perfection
and bless it as if you were someone,
one of those that are able to offer the Lord’s power to someone;
those that pretend, at least,
those closet-atheists, the door to their closet made up of religion
this or that a hodgepodge of superstitions.
he turned,
laughed,
walked away
with only one word,
“Fuck God.”
ps: my eyes are pure black from corner to corner,
pupil to iris,
pure,
octopus inky jet black
like the coagulated blood of a hundred thousand infants
that never even had a chance to taste a mother’s tit
their only sensation the blood pouring from Her nipple
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