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By: JackbootWhimsy
on walking the witchery way
my gait coyote and glottal stops
to turn the world wrong
my words to corpse powder
what with what was
collected from your dead
couldn’t woven hair to universe
wove nail clippings to sickness
let the sky cut me in half
follow this cratered road
you shoot myself down like a dog
too late to turn over rocks
strange singings hangs from the sandstone
and i wore your skin like it meant something.
i’m only loyal to luna,
~
JackbootWhimsy