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Better living through fractual thinking.

day break bleeds
like a thousand lovers breathing
beneath the sanguine sea.
I hold incarnate truths
like stones around a broken neck,
waiting for bone and debris
to nick the noose around me.
But yet,
morning breathes between screams,
and somber what if's
are merely in betweens.

In the shadow of a morning son,
I brew sanitation in cups of two
because you never know
when death will be visiting you.

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