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morphine there is a boy whose touch can crack cement whose inebriated caress causes blisters syringes dangle off his eye lids. gigolo service for a pack of cheap cigarettes the kind that taste like dried cabbage swept off a sweaty camel back. licking a worker's back door. redemption got caught up ran like mud through his throat projecting in a rainbow of flavors towards a basket of fantasy lives of hope to reach a light at the end of a funnel cloud raging with rats gnawing every last s h r e d the possibility of nothingness transmorphed into the certainty in empty nights with empty dreams on beds that are too big for one body weeping is heard down the hall followed by screams. howls. he will always be nice enough to lie about anything he may actually think if he does have thoughts.
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