from a porch, caught in a cycle


reversed reverence for what we might see walking forward

yet, we were signaled to stay put

wiggling defiantly through cracks in the foundation poured by the great-grandparents of dissidents who cease to pay homage to horrors displayed ensuring we can play with like-skinned caregivers

i coughed up the blood of my mothers birth

caught it in my hand

salty, full of sin, and preposterous

stupefied by language used to continue the spew of opinions without substance

i try to forget everything i know



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