ought not to doubt us

well, my, haven’t we taken your crushing well?

though our arms are so tired, raised for days

pink brick dust scrapes against our eyes


it’s been a long minute (look at your fine watch)

but we still have words we haven’t even used yet

they are well-toned and finely sharpened

cherry-picked from the language of no-fucking-way


if we are afraid, it is only of how long it will take,

and how long will those dents linger,

soiling the air after your stunky goodbye.

but no, we are not running or sleeping or near complete.


our position against you is stronger than fetal

this song is potent, sure as water and earth and

—you don’t know this but—(whispers)

we have magic, too. just by breathing we make you

shiver. just by watching, we make you small.

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