two poems

‏‏‎ ‏‏‎

Ouroboros is Broke

It’s typically at this time of day tht the final closure of death seems most heinous & gnarly
Death interred my mind like a spirit
& now I’m cannibal, spiritual icon of
You are all within my head                         
A sort of lace devoted to the image
of nunchuckery
Supine in this sky 
More than infatuation with the waves.

Uncloudy Day

if u exclude me from society
then i go to heaven
I & the rest of my ppl
we’re tht deep
we live in God’s love
not under your laws
Sunday forgive
my gluttony
my lust
my spirit


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