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Child,
your games,
the willy-nilly word$ you play for the wh~g~irl you hound
will come around,
bite you in the ass one day.
They'll come around
Bound to your conciousness forever.
Chained, your mind's eye will see;
defiled, your breath's ear will reach
into the ether
Black, the dark within paints a fire/
the bastard has control again and the visions:
a static rainbow, embarrased by your indecision.
Child,
the game forgotten,
open eyes see where you have not looked (cannot look)---
---the other
your superficial realm of banter, backwards, beget undone, those
willy-nilly words are biting.