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20 Raw Raw as an open wound that insists On the extremity of pain In order to reach fulfilment Is every desire. But pain is only secondary To that need Of exploitation To a fullness which Cuts and then numbs. When Tired and Sleepy Resolve Never again To shake father’s meagre frame Or blame mother’s small heart. Night’s acid bites. It smoothes lines, angles, contours, All unique features. Darkness is a strong colour, It dyes all And changes All into large patterns, immense forms, Too large, too large for hate alone. I do not like this night. ...

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