jemwords
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Own
 
Sure, I’ll be That.
Be the cast shadow
of all you’ve imagined. I do
 
to that tune: do
backwards, and stilettoed,
limbs tied. Yes:
 
I be pet, be so starvably
ravenous. Babysit. Dessert                                                                                      
for the sated, no appetite,
 
I takes it. Saintly: so lash I
to stakes of your choice. I’s de-
capitatable, twice. Crackle-dry,
 
arson away. Dismember every limb
of such arachnidity. Only heed
intoxication’s own condition,
 
dilution. Like oxygen, a
toxin alone; though you need,
don’t inhale unadulterated
 
That, lung
That and leave
I alone.
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