Drum

transfix that smile for me, corpse handler

we're elbow deep in muck now

and there is fire on my lips

or poison

and sticky residue droplets of absinthe

courageous with myself i can find nothing that surprises

with these lines all over the place i stammer

strap on your magnet boots or i will lose you

to the heavens, the void, the cold all over

never to recover but for. .

pickaxe

blisters and slivers afflicting me

and bore

with two jagged hooks through to find anchor

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