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Celebration Day

The hand blares four to midnight.
You’re here with me, on my bed
Stroking my hair while
shadows inside my skull welcome you.

 

[How about a sister, love?]

 

I dream of series of private rooms.
Might have been deaf in my sleep–I go up
and down and round to different perfumes.
My knuckles pale like the horse I sit on.

 

Then I’d wake, only to see that bitch’s
eyes glow on me like the moon on Halloween.

Her name doesn’t matter–you leave it casually behind like
your company keys.

 

I know, Pa.
You don’t love us the same.

 

So watch my mouth.
Watch me move my tongue along the smooth edges–I have
magical words. Closer I lean to you,
closer till enough…

 

I hope that soon it rots with her.

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