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August 9, 2023 / barton smock

birthplace,

birthplace 11

I don’t have any friends. I eat to know that not existing is over. Nakedness is a memory exercise that returns teeth to grief. A hole trying to experience loss is interrupted by gunfire. We say death defect, and laugh. Glossolalia, or I saw in that church bathroom the ghost of the angel that medicated god.

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