Criticism

afterthought5

I cannot talk to you
My tongue arcs up
As a knife darkened
With too much blood
And your ears like
Twin embryos, oblivious
Do not wait for consent
But drink hungrily
Of each wounded hunch

I cannot bare
The immensity
Of my constraint
But worse are those
Parasites which mingle
With the breath
And gnaw obliquely
At our hearts

Once exchanged
We cannot retrieve them
And how they grow
In number, these criticisms
Even when recalled
I hear them still
Like branches
Snapping in darkness

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