August 27, 2011
Not smooth, but muddy crimson clumps
Soon open, shut, a beat has passed
Stream through in warm, iron seas
For him, it leaks
Thumping faster
Hammering the calcium bars
Now scorching, but calmly craving
His eyes
His eyes
Easily unlock
And open, shut, seeping threads of
Burgundy oxides
Rapid, ravaged organ
He mends with few words.

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