2139: I miss that cruelty

I miss that cruelty – it is
a curse [it is fixed in my
blood] – bruised dignity
was my grisly swelling –

She told me things that
would make me sick – a
vomited response to all
her wins – Only from her

lips were cast such stuff
[of unbelievable songs]
& thrown up [again] as
olid slicks [they’ll crawl

across my bared skin] &
I am listening to crack &
snap of her whips – Hear
her now repeating it all?

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