i am part of the gate. cold hard rusted keeping the prisoner inside. i am just an outline... disease starting down so deep eating its way out. this is where it begins (secret captive sin) in a single rod of the iron gate rusted and no longer serving its purpose i curve my posture, veil the reflections of comprehension in eyes and breathe... and watch them participate in the movement of the play while i am welded into the gate to watch them marching onward... i am just an outline... travel onward through crevice of shallow space catch a breath crawl onward travel onward through crevice of shallow space catch a breath crawl onward searing in this i die, in the openness of wound.. i am part of the gate. i am cold, i am rusted. i am the prisoner inside.
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