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UCHE NDUKA
Gleamings
what am i saying i mean i want to hear the music of your eyes
to bask in it, come what may.
moving a Brillo Box around. that sort of thing.
like when a urinal, a kettle, a comb become
more equipmental, reified, immodest.
i want-so far, so good- to place your oyster on top of my whitewood.
to grow less accusative of your anus, your secretion.
like when thingly, crumbly, a ledger plops down
in front of my groin.
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