To hold the door and
Scrub your presence off me
Nothing short of letting
Will suffice –
It’s not enough that I should
Crush on cleaner devils,
Hold the world up to their shoulders;
Whatever fault you see does not
Validate me. In truth I drag, I
Stumble over legs and
Anatomic syndication; I’m
Searching for the bruise
Your body’s sunken into,
Wounds kept open just so
I can keep attuned to
Growing skills out of
Affective battery.

I’m not ugly I’m just pale;
A plaything of a statue might as well
Be marble built from flesh,
Uneven stone carried from
Birth rites to dead heights,
Corpse raised from a face
Too dark to function
In mainstream society.

Look no further for
Organic evidence –
This will do just fine.

Shave half your face and
Leave the rest for men
Who know how best to handle blades.

Blood works until it doesn’t
Give me what I want.
Blood works until he doesn’t
Say the words I want.

If man to host a life I’m
Man to claim a Life.

Bloodworks until I am
No longer in control.


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