Slurp the serpentine grace.
The face flushed with fickleness.
A darkness seeps through
the pores of your skin.
Some burning within your breast.
Nests of nettles.
Kettle conundrum.
Born again, born again, bigoted chum.
Thumbsuckers of the world, unite!
A thin grief to bite down on.

-r. miller

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