The bees in my head don't matter.
In this world where there is no proof, unless inertia is proof

this landscape where like mathemeticians embossed on porcelain or bone hit by lightning,
like a balloon bursting

like  reified maggots
in
God's
perfect
               wound

Not a bee is wasted.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

shmoetry
 

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