red concentrate

the light – bright red

and glowing in spheres.

a repetition of circulating

gradient; illuminates the

center of this room- dank

with the wretched spirits

of they who embody the

persistent clenching of

swelled tongues and tight

lips – sore and sworn to

secrecy. time, begets an

opportunity ripe enough

to taper; this disdained

haunting, of us -we

consumed by guilt – a

concentrated stinging

sour – rolling over

and under our tongue.

 

 

 

 

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