extraction

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i mug language at night and force her

to act surprised at my magic tricks.

i abandon the baby at a poem's door

let the moonlight be its basket

and dawn ring the bell.

how quick she turned into tears

and how cold my consoling claw.

somebody wash this shit off me please

or let me stink solitary in my own cell

don't make me do both, stink and care

because i'm riveted and ravished at once.

~ ajay

21/6/2022

dreamclot ~ poetryWhere stories live. Discover now