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Britain Rodriguez



Unkempt sentiments 

Laid barren in their midnight hour

As will all things, 

a twilight comes

In here, their graven compliance 

speaks multitudes 

of the foundations I’ve set them upon 

In here, a tacit 

and concise explanation 

Does more harm

 than good

In here, there is the sound of nothing

Other than the cacophony 

Of the day struggling to quiet itself



The great beast speaks

And yet I wonder 

For how many years was 

the tongue forked 

And the feet hooved


What clouds 

And dark sky

Lead to the eye 

Of the storm




As night descended 

Grace, quiet 

The anxious sounds of midnight

The lingering pulse 

Of heart

Of breath

Your caged footsteps 

Thoughts lingering on the tongue

Time slips by, 

The urgency of sleep


By will, by want






In eyes which are yours 

I saw something of me


Eyes which are blue

And sometimes green


How could one argue 

with a mirror?




All that damage 

Could be done

And all that ever is 

Once was 

And all that can be, 


May everything happen 

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