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HOYA
MAGAZINE
Calling 911 in Georgia
You always touched me with a stranger’s hand painted
rough strokes of desolate familiarity on my cheek
to align myself in your perfect unilateral matrices I
depolarized refused to drown in you but you pushed
my head down i couldn’t breathe underwater suddenly
the words in my mouth were sour and heavy.
walking forwards I was the xenophobic downfall
of a body walking backwards i unbecame myself
deer in the headlights will you nail me to the wall as the
prize of the hunt, death doomed to die over and over?
my eyes are flashing red and blue shining like
stained glass, my own little ambulances
can they save me now?
will you save me?
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