co,
ma.
in Arizona.
heat hotter than my feet
hotter than the beat
feet.
its a clock on the mantel and the flicker of a candle
a leather couch once cold,
now warm to be told.
a warm out canvas,
with a radio like wave.
a radio like wave,
to many flats make a grave.
its the vertebrae of my spine,
snapped forcefully out of line.
to many curves equal pain,
balanced bodies go insane.
its the rare potion fruit,
contracts stimulation in prepare.
braiding once, braiding twice,
helping each and every hair.
it's a voodoo doll, so scary,
its a voodoo doll, complex.
little pins to stab the spots,
little eyes to see an x.
its the popping of the toes,
and the wrinkle in your nose.
its the baby born to shine,
one a gift or one unchose.
its the black and purple bruise,
that covers her past with a stain.
its the silver connected rope,
that some like to call a chain.
and the house crumbled down,
it caught a case of the frown.
and in the flood we began,
to swim, to swim to swim around.
blank coma, vanilla hazelnut aroma.
wiggle foot, flex the toe,
undo your braid and tie a bow.
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