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who can smell
her body’s own perfume?

termites gnaw ventricles
into afghani caves
labyrinths bleeding with would-be freedom fighters and
misguided martyrs

listen now to the strange cadences,
to the screams that reverberate through you,
standing waves in your heart strings.

bitterer than iocaine, this
wormwood.
and like worms in wood
it makes you, invisible
creator.

but fear bleeds too.
bite a coin–any coin. (all coins
are fool’s gold.)
no copper in the penny but the
shimmer in your eye.