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When all the black mirrors light up

My eyes are polyamorous, lingering and twisting,
playing tricks on my Sunday School heart

They feed my brain the food it wants but doesn’t need
Empty calories for empty Saturdays

Alone, with dark hooded thoughts; talons that rip me open until
I’m that moment before catatonic and the one right after vulnerable 

I’ve seen these moving pixels dance one hundred times before,
But today I hope they’ll glimmer and glint just for me

I’ll draw the lights in until that fateful day
When I carve my eyes clean out of my head

Posted 12/09/16
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