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Archive

Tanti cries with her mouth open

Tanti cries with her mouth open, surrendering…

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Guerrilla, my love

Guerrilla, my love, save some passion for me. There’ll be mangoes, freshly cut azaleas & siestas. But your callouses must be ready to soften.

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The man-child points his rifle

The man-child points his rifle at me. I unbraid time; relinquish my right to cry for his losses. Both our eyes are open, looking at nothing.

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Top this.

Top this. And he unbuttons the flannel, revealing etched ripples of flesh & a blooming fountain of scars. They ohh and put their guns down.

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Effigies of intelligence were set alight

Effigies of intelligence were set alight at dusk to roars from the crowd. Ash fell like manna, smothering what was left of the light.

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