(Born Into That) Only In Its Tenure

There is a sound in the floors
Distinct across the walls

Through latency, direct:
It is my reverberation. It is entomy and jarred.

It is the manipulation of matter

Issuance of contract
To forgive

This is death
Letting yourself read;
Thinking: A good thing

It is me that they chose to sublet

A malice of fortune, good politics.
The one single word;
I am only oppressed

This house is a chamber
Which I am not allowed to leave
And I will not forget

The days where you held your pieces – over a siphoning humanity.
One to love, oh; A true discovery.


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