In nineteen ninety one I stole your winter’s snow

Thus began the terrible white babe.

Squeezing her arses into stars.

Creeping into hearts like a sickness.

The tears of adults tasty, like a squeeze of the cheek

and something very simple upside down.

Our heads are dark and low and I’m scared of a cigarette butt in the toilet bowl

Its tip is pointy. I don’t understand cigarettes and I’m sure it is going to bite me

in a place I know to be vulnerable.

Something newer than you is worrying.


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