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bodies
01:47
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Found my body in a fog
an incongruous stream,
splash marks and color poisoned
an indiginous creature, wading in half-dream.
I’m fork tongued and language thick,
breath tendon taut,
hot, invasive, sick.
Last night I felt my body,
a film of dirt and shadows
stretched over sea rock and bed sheets
fungal and sullied.
my body in a gas chamber
dreaded cot, compulsive vessle
limbs dancing, soliloquy of skin
/ infanticide / matricide /
lullaby and family ties.
This body flares with felicity
a wild terrain of flesh, forbidding
wanton and languid, clothed with the sun,
rays caught in gel of eye, lips wet like a drowning woman.
“I am he of the flower beds, forever earth
Sky cast and sanguine, volition most feared“
body on a screen,
interlaced, forgiving
needles, teeming
sutures for mothers, maidens, mutants
in search of spines and saccharine
my body is a house of veins
time bound and livid
an animal heart,
finely tuned to preying
light dispersed in acrid fog.
my body is inside you.
scent of jugular, fruit of thy womb
I’m the silence that follows scene
I’m blind spot and angle
eyes in your bathroom wall.
I know where you live.
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Pereira Irving Paul Singapore
Spoken word poet. Writer. Occultist + Artist
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