1
there are bedrooms full of us.
peeling metallic wallpaper,
the music saying all is well
when we clearly know it is not.
maybe we should move to
the side of town God lives on.
2
your body breaks into song
when I leave it alone.
who knew you had perfect pitch?
who knew your voice was a circle
of traps in this wilderness?
tear at my ankles,
keep me here.
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