On the Tips of Forked Tongues

speaking dreams
under fire
crimson ribbons
in the wind
hidden away

bitter bullets fly

broad daylight
thoughts reborn

strange and numb
splintered across
backward glance

insanity among
transparent knives
humming bullshit
a sinister flock

turn aside
blur the edges

birth will cum again

in the arms
of a stranger
trying to remember



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