poems from the north, day 7

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Let’s pop off the top
and expose what’s bottled

I need to fizz out.
Get raw.
Explode into what’s real.

Slice and dice.
Sear in some preparation
I’ve never experienced.

I want to be reduced
to nothing but juice
and seed.

I want my pulp squeezed
out, letting silver pool
into red viscosity.

I want to be splattered
across every wall
in bold strokes

The cross borders
until all that’s left of me

Are the panting sounds
of brightness

In streaks that don’t stop
I am here.

Written by

Holes and a series of rabbits — my debut poetry collection — now available! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B089RRRGXX/

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