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we ring and run.

Photography by Adam Coleman

we ring and run

plastic bags sagging on the steps

a dung heap of lost sleep 

a ditched pile of not regret

we fold fire and wedge it in

between our ribs

between car parts and busted batteries

fumes flaming and mouths foaming

we run to the light

plant notes for un-grown vines

explode daisies

into crowds of spitting faces

we kiss their gnarled mouths

cradle their tangled feet

lick the blood from their chins

run before they can know our name

a giver with no face

death too close to wait to play

we have but this

this playground

cracked, rusted and jammed with nails

we press our naked bodies to it’s warmth

life pulsing in our thumbs

we hitch a ride


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