i saw her on TV from the pit of my cage. black on blonde that i’ve wanted for so long, straining and forgetting that i am unfit for any. funny, funny girl of a breed so rare- ethnic and dyed- more of what i want than i choose to care. TV star i stare at through my distant heart, i never loved true in this abstract trap that keeps me from you. fall lady love had her off to new york, star set certified through eyes in which i can not rely. the new mother in Pieta, she cradles my thorned head- on stage, dead and tied, a nervous comfort in which i thrive. my Madonna kissed stigmata, giving loving stitch from her angelic lips. holy wound, let me feed again, in the love left over through the remnants of a friend

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