Smoke floods my lips
With a wheelchair sporting my bad blood
My ants feed me scraps of cloth and bacon
When
Pins and Needlesbecome too strong, the ants carry me to my car
And when it rains
I sleep underground
my eyelashes are their dead legs
No lipstick graces my face, no lines shadow mine eyes
I keep my protuberances covered in cloth
the ants love for me
the ants eat for me
the ants see to me
and I eat the ants
They keep me quiet, quell my anxiety
Whisper me to sleep
I am no unaffected man
My dreams are large and vast
I see the same things in their carapaces
The ants eat what I kill
and I kill to feed them.
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