

insecticidewith silken imprecision: we twine our tongues into shapely fabrics for your myriad materials, your costly consumable clothing, each flea to kiss its thorax to your thigh a prayer to you, our host-god we but parasites upon your crown as we spin our lives into your regality,insecticide
you, with mortar, pestle and opposable thumb, grind us, each to flavour or colour your wasted food our demise trifles you not but should we take one sip of your godless ichor, you scream in anger, such that each punishment is but deliverance for downless wings that click and flicker &


a cold warthis frigid ostentation brings much dysphoria and such elation you caught me at a sometime, a bad time a limelight, a salt rime a breathless speech.a cold war
antigone
andro
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I know proper spelling, punctuation, and capitalization-- my present carpal tunnel doesn't care about those thigs, however. Please forgive the sloppy typing until I get through this.
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