My feminine energy
knows: stagnation is hellfire to the brain.
When she leaves,
she goes
behind an empty space in my face;
I have a hard time remembering names,
forget how to identify my own pain,
fill the hole in with a smile so fake
it splinters.
I am content with her absence
(despite Lonely)
scratching at the soles of my feet.
Too many men have grown
in me
so I scramble to find her stench drenched
in every place I've never been.
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