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Hermaphrodite on Fire

My lips are stitched, the language I have is guttural

My heart is swollen pumping a venomous pus of denial

My body is bruised poke by grin to my hollow flesh

My soul is broke yet adamantine it freely hush

Piecemeal cutting my gut to serve it on my trailing nerves

To peregrine where air flies the butterfly’s dust

The flow of blood is pulsating warmth to my celluli

Thumping the sleeper ganglia in my languid gyri

With congeries of ardent beams in both retinae

That burns inside out a pallet of hemoglobin

And then I set it ablaze on the Holy Grail

With liter of serum to combust the fiery gules

Behold the sparks of firecrackers in boomerang

That set me free from wound’s recrudescence

Of soiled hands I smear my body with residue

And here I am hermaphrodite on fire.

© 2018 Mester Za Jainar

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