11 Apr
  Mind- a machination of mold.
Eyes- jaded spheres dripping tears.
Mouth- a curve of pointless words. …
Blood- red as revival.
Neck- a twig to snap.
Arms- limp rags for nothing.
Heart- thump, thump.
Stomach- churn.
Hips- swish.
Legs- run.
Bones- snap.
Self- human.
  I am an inventory of imperfections. Yet your kind words linger in my ears, and dangle before me like you do. 
  Serene, clear, and ever blue.  
  A perfect slew  
  of flaws,  
  and, well,  

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