Without the pain of points
bulleted in shrapnel shards, my
life, liquefied intacto sum, seeps
listless its stresses through cracks in
my curvature, unlucky stone-
faced facade.
An unfortunate Must-Parade squawk
ing in shambles, checks un-checking all
on their own, despite which-
ever scrutiny you apply, lacquered layers
indiscreetly opaque.
Again,
again again again
wishful thinking.
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