That newness that pulsates within me

is the quandary that begs you,

replace me with what you once knew.

Lift high your hands, send praise

then beat your chest with contempt-

one can’t evade quandaries.

That ambiguity that sits upon your lips

has no fear; is it remiss?

Its simpleness is just a glimpse of



And kneel

don’t beckon me

for a feeling you feel.

These thoughts are not allowed to be your own.


And guile

I went for the slaughter.

Suppress the only gift

I ever really knew.

Oh, quandaries.


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