Another chance
Reuben in the rocket mass
of tongue necklaces. Opaquely
hanging me over the
studio apartments in question.
And I realise that I don't know
what keeps me afloat, when
everyday I am besmirched
and belaying,
for some great unknown cause.
Saying the things that
slip past my yo-yo hands,
into truth that can be
Digested by a crocodile- to be
Spat
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