There is no tiptoeing

around this elephantine

madness; as to which came first

no one quite knows,

but there are stories

that one can never forget.

Birthed, here

locked away from the sun

festering, as it were

bosoms that beckon

coddled by inviting hands

and satisfy

grace, grazed

with their touch

bony, death-like

appendages, pinpricks


climbing ladders of your vertebrae,

pent up

aching for release.


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