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Swirling hot cinders

Atop the ashtray,

Revisiting the icon

Of a different me,

I ask myself in dismay:

How can this be?

How can this be?

Feral,teratoid seeds,

Inguinally sowed

Into my frame,

Are germinating rhizomes

Bequeathing your name

To a buried strong room.

The unsightliness

Of fresher ventures,

Births a dark refulgence,

The sin, the blunder,

The nectarous indulgence...

Like twigs of

Blooming cedars

Touching - tongue in cheek,

Our hands intertwine,

Seconds burn,palms leak.

And in this vertigo

I lose myself complete

Adopting monstrous senses,

So glum,so sick...

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