I hold sons in my belly, rotten flesh to sate
Dun bricks scattered crumbs arouse
Scorched meat, the scent, an irresistible bait
Peeling, putrid, mangled: a pleasant browse
Clean, gleaming, skin stretched insidious
Over me. Etched names with tired pens
On stone rowed sympathies, so fastidious
Over them. Roll out my vestiges, and hymens
Forget and repeat. Sure as winter to fall
A fate...
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