"redeemer"
raised hair that falls to your shoulders
summons a fire drill of blood within me. i admit,
your voice that puts scratches down my
back.
my mind draws circles over and over, a clear
representation that i have
no concept of how to start over.
what do the corners of our room ask of us?
we try to remember that we were once enveloped in
down blankets but instead
experience a deep emptiness like silent reading.
don't feel proud, it's just fate after all.
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