Illusions

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I am a demon. Lost somewhere between your cerebrum and cerebellum.

Within the splitting of a second, I am alone.

Within the splitting of two, she is alone.

She measured a cup of confessions,

I dribbled them across the countertop.

I fold your words carefully, half by half, corner by corner.

She lay as a plank across the crisp white sheets,

yellowing with age, I unravel her worry.

The soft worms of your mind become tangled,

only to be placed beneath the doormat, eyes wide open.

 

 

I am an angel. There is nothing foul about my breath.

When his eyes close, mine open.

I give him abstract powers. He caresses the lucidity,

stretches his immaculate fingernail over a mile.

In this realm, his stains are gone. 

My dirty water runs sterilized into a contaminated mouth,

a word bent into an intricate pattern,

disappears into the white abyss.



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i really think

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