hand and bury an ax
between your
breasts all in the
same breath.
And as I inhale
and you
stare,
there is this
sound like
scotch tape tearing
from its roll but there's
no sound and there's
no breathing
And then I flow
into some
other layer where
there's only pressure
on my skin and
womb sounds and
to you,
at the kitchen table, I
piss myself
but I'm
not there.
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