years have gone by and

what lovely new spines:

unending bone,

untended decimation,
once open now

once swaying effortlessly

like reeds in your lake,

now planted firmly in the dry

spines that are walking,


coming back for an earring they forgot.
machete sacrums.

nerves like fighters

marinading in indignity,
blood lust,

so many years have gone by.

but they are spines that are
razor sharp and

ready to write


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