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PIECING AIM OF SHAME
Deeply piecing
is the aim
of the arrow
we call shame.
It fills the lungs
with murky water.
Caressing faces
with seawater.
Insides hurt as if
they’ve been punched,
and it continues despite having
thrown up your lunch.
Yet the pain is
keener than another
when the object of shame
is your own mother.
