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Tongues of the Dead.

Bootleg memories slip
passed the border patrol
of consciousness in a flash
to swim a short bit before

some gag reflex betwixt
my ears excommunicates
those impossible memories,

loose pages of a hidden
history flying across my mental
line of sight, eroding sanity.

Eerie emotions surfacing,
ghosts calling out to me,
breaking through momentarily

until censorship slams
it shut, slicing through tongues
of the dead, cutting
off the message,

leaving me to wonder, drown
in a sea of alien emotions.
Shattered by sneak peeks.
Tortured by teasers.

Full story kept
under lock and key.

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