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She ranged,

she was hastily creative,

she hatched tiny,
expired empires
arranged on whims,

sweet nonsense

and the contraction of ideas;

she said they always split
– rent –
down the stem,

where each divide
was high
or torn a-shred.

A venous mistress,

she approached
the human hustle
not for reproduction,

but the blooded marrow
of connection –

she would cut off the head,
in search of a friend
from the hellion haunt
of hydra-headed

she climbed the walls –

her hair
shone a mirror for her flaws;

an old reflection
built each new house,

she freaked her borders,

in bondage
she plucked from the perimeters,

and then she fled

to another
immaculate imager
of arch-design.


4 thoughts to “Interloper”

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