Hot Sun Lost

Unpublished pieces

Salvation wind blowing like a hot sun lost in
streaming fire that began with one match
ended like a dripping candle having sex
on the floor

and the turtles crawled, wanting more.

If I stood in front of a mirror naked
as the day I was born
I'd not see
my heart beating like
hurting sticks shoved backwards
into my anal passages
and I'd claim no victory
over the gripping fingers
of tormenting lies.

Would you miss me if I ate my way
out of the marching timbers of
forest fires?

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