Blog,
Body: you are
a paradisiacal chaos.
One that can love and can be hurt.
You are an octopus, changing color while it dreams.
You are an octopus; you do not have a fixed shape.
You are abstract.
The beautiful thoughts of an apocalyptic identity.
The stuff in a drain.
You are at the foot of a burned down house.
You sing along, covered in lips.
You bury and unbury yourself--redefining how you occupy space.
You curve and quiver.
You are drained.
As if I left everyone I love behind for tomorrow's shadow,
or they are all here.
The sun has just come up.
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