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The God in Us Wishes to Live

Somewhere in darkened rooms women lie gnarled as roots.

The doctors whisper, "sigh, sigh",

and they sigh.

"Breath, breathe"

and they breathe. Over and over.

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Needles pricking the old grooves. Scream!

Un coil. "Give it to me give it to me

give." Veins on the neck stand

thick as chains. Rings throttling fingers,

gold watches tick on swollen wrists.

The spine arches

releasing tears.

"Good," whisper the doctors, "you're

getting there."

Where?

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