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What I Weep For

What I weep for is you

and me, myself.
When anguish can’t be expressed
in human words any longer
we weep

clawing at the warm
moist guts of the earth
with sharpened fingernails
we scream

line up with tear-tracks
down our cheeks
as they call out numbers,
a blue tattoo.

Soup and sandals and cuts
like spidery tracing
on the backs of our backs
our fronts

concrete beneath me
and I weep for bloody
feet

I weep for you
for me
for faith
I weep for freedom

I weep for hate



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