The weather looks inside,
wears down my body
inches and inches, pounds and pounds.
I find a belly in the mouth of each beast I meet.
The scent of daffodils and fire
rests on my tongue.
They would never dance for me,
Not in this ecstatic moment of pressure,
Building into witness.
I am a structure
bleeding and breathing arches,
in tune with steel and concrete.
I bless your mouth, impress horns and tails
onto your body like ancient wings.
This is what we find: struggle and more of the same.
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