This boy
Good skin, boned well
He bleeds like a poem
Wherever he goes
Whatever he feels
Whatever he touches
A new poem is birthed
This boy
When he is cut, deep
Mustered by existence
He bleeds into a poem
This boy
Good skin, boned well
He bleeds like a poem
Wherever he goes
Whatever he feels
Whatever he touches
A new poem is birthed
This boy
When he is cut, deep
Mustered by existence
He bleeds into a poem
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