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Serrano/ Crowe

49

3

Iseemyself inthemirror, andclawatmyface. Onetwo, three, thesamefeatures, alwaystheotherone, alwaysthesameone, strong, hard-faced, cold. Thesamesurfacemuddyingintoblackness, disintegrating, narrowing. Justthinkofall thatpatiencerepeating itselfinblackblood, justthinkof theweeping, thefourstubbornsmearsthat sketchmyface. It’sasthoughI’mflayingmyself soIcanberepeatedthere, spendingandclawingatmyself. Iamthisgash, thiswarped, resentful wood, thisnever-endingswitchingfromroletorole, thischewed-overresentmentthat withers, depicts, andwithersme. Onetwo, three, alwaysthoseotherfeatures, always theotherone, thesameone, inadrainingawaythatchafes, chafes, and chafes, thatnevertearsitself upandgoesnaked.

4

Whatarethewhereaboutsof thisbabbleof tongues, thissuicideflightof words, thishermit-crabthatismystory? Asthoughthemusicof alanguagemightsaveme, asthoughImightconjugatemyself orflowwildlyalong! AsthoughIcouldcastitall off, breakloose, meltintoacitywithnoname, nopast, runlikeasalmontowardsitsorigin, disinheritmyself, slideoutfromall thisjostle. Therelearntolisp, inall innocence, intheignoranceof theechoes.

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