literature

were illness ever so apparent

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sansstitre's avatar
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Published:
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Literature Text

i cut the
shape
of a wolf below my breast,


i call him sweet

and tearing lover

that cut me in two


a blade of
night
sitting distinctly within my chest:




it is to say
that i am not
my demons.
© 2014 - 2024 sansstitre
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successwithhonor's avatar
[i refuse to delete this from my inbox]