Stare

I want something pure

I want something pure

Unsullied by the bile of untired biliousness

Uninundated by a pottage mess

Made uglier by sheer force of

Malignancy

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I want something true

Unsullied by a stench that rises unbidden

As if the force of gravity was false

And reality was a freak show

Enchaining me

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I want something free

Unsullied by a time that brooks amnesia

Perhaps some memory of better days

When innocence can still be conjured

And comfort me