The gutters run to one mouth
strumming pitfall
these golden dragons
cementing bile
and hum the prisoner deep within
I am him.
Leaves mesh calling bones,
and I am not a fool
in these rains,
the structure drowns.
Within skin and thumbed slices of ligaments
her hands are climbing
to scream, to dance, to kill,
and I
unable to walk without legs
have only this bitten quill.
To seek locked-
whether my eternal includes death or
if it will let me away.
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