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Mountains MAG
Often I become strangled
because of mountains.
They squeeze me with indifference
the way my college sister pops pimples -
two languid fingers breaking skin.
I millipede
into myself.
Additionally: crushed birds,
with their wings fixed hot on asphalt.
And large windows
framing larger skies -
these too
are torturous.
The message here is clear,
I can never stop bleeding.
What else is there to say?

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