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body cavity
a few weeks ago i crawled into a blackened circle an old campfire cold but hazy like the slow burn of damp wood. i crimped my organs and rumpled my limbs flailing for a position that didn’t throb. but to be naïve and fetal, dead to sensation. to drown out the silence and space with red heat.
all my thrashing prayers have not broken skin. i still feel
jonathan d baker 6 19 04 |
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10,000 feet above the surface of the earth there is no justice in medicine
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