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fascination street

when i imagine your belly button
i grow to love the hair that creeps around it
my body is twisting around like a cat
looking for dinner

when you cut the collar loose
i am eating the air
blood swishes around the chattering teeth
of my pregnant grin

the impulse to grind is gone
remaining is the depth of desire
to eat the ground matter of your head--
brain and bone

you were always only a meal

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