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Sucking Ocular.

Iris vivid, pupil pulsing.
Rhythm to return to.
Entrancing yet grounding.

Escape while you can.

More pieces wound
in the wicked fucking web
that she spins.

Caught again?

Staring dead into the cold, black coal
heart of her tractor-beams,
halos green, what did you expect?

Dumbass.

C’mon boy:
never look ’em in the eyes:
they’ll suck out your soul.

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