Riots after sunset,
before sunrise,
I pivot on heels.
Quiet after running
the DNA through agarose gel.
Saliva.
Stealing a strand of hair?
Simple.
Stealing what dried up from breathing?
Tough.
I ran tests.
I ran them again.
I ran myself into the ground.
The results?
Unexpected.
Test again?
I don't think so.
I want to scream fire,
cigarettes,
and booze.
I want to scream out the thoughts of
you.
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