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Aglow, Aching.

Cup your hands
around the crack in the wall,
catching what bleeds
through to ensure
its immortality,
at least

until you drink
till you are drunk
on the secrets,
cursing your lies,
building an appetite
for their obliteration,

light afire all you are not,
then stumble through the forest
to the creek
and gaze down at your reflection.

Let yourself,
just let yourself scream.
A soul aglow, aching.

Those burnt eyes
black as coal
hungry holes
for alien insight.


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