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Often I dream of cutting flesh and stripping bone,
of harvesting myself a home, a place of power
in the marrow, to cut the wings from the sparrow.
Often I see in the night a fire inside blazing bright
a hateful effigy of my fright; the walls fall in, the walls fall in.
What is its name, this hateful sin?
Nevermind nevermind its name, cover it up this ancient shame
this jealousy this age-old cry, this urge to see my brother die
he with evil eye who pry, pry pry, and paste upon my face a lie;
I will not let him see me.