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Dedication these days

She was ripe. Blossoms sprouting from her hair, eyebrows of expression. She consisted of spheres. An integrated sum of curves, circles, spheres. Her points would never shape an angle. She did not fit in corners, her points would never tear, would never injure. She rolled on the x-axis. She rolled, full of seeds. The seeds rolled too. She was dark mud. She did create, she did. Wide open legs far apart. How she'd command another birth. How she'd demand another glass. Almonds to see them face, an infinite strike of curves, circles, spheres to touch them skin. One time, maybe two, maybe a bunch of times that could fit in one month, maybe two. Maybe more, free to slip off to the next. Anytime free, them agreed on that without talking over. Vague scenes that have been cut as never spoken of. She did hop from the landing to the following step, or the landing threw her up, vague, never spoken of. Gaps have been filled with fiction. Her, naked brought sweat to the back from afar. Brought sweat to the back from them hands from them legs from them genitals. Her naked beneath them, a literate dish after weeks of hunger. Her naked beneath them, a literate body to picture. Thought it would be an image of relief. It was an image of revolt. Such beauty monstrous. Such impression swallowed as was. Them did mention her placing the dedicated sentence in a pile of indifferent sentences. Them who laid their hands on her earth, them laid their hands on the dead valley of ours. Them flew from the cloud to the triangle. Them same did moan inside, them same now moaned outside. Them cold, them sweaty, them we would fight over. She did not reach her end. Us shall outlive our death only, only to see them mourn. Dedication these days. Them moved to an abandoned country. Them turned from the light, them lost in angles angles lost in them. Skin torn, skin flattered, skin sent back to its primordial threads. When us shatters, them are to walk away scarred. She was ripe and taken and devoured. She is, us, them. She is a number of speculations.

I saw my hand in the edge of the field. My legs collapsed, oh, I shook with terror.