gone days 
of a whispered rack, lashed 
against obsidian history 
misunderstood. 
these ropes weren't made to slip over my wrists 
but that's what god invented nails for.

dawn days
breaking , split gut and glowsticks 
cured ham and other salted relics :
tryptophobic abstracts
tiger traps to tiptoe over 
the weight of legends heavier 
than bruised absconding feet 

colored nights 
...

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