Hair and clay 

Clear glass true desire to hurt

[when we are small we guarantee love with pain 

it’s sealed]

A child to dance towards light through hate

(transparently fistfuls of hair and clay)

He loved me I

With barely nothing there. 

He’d cry [I’d triumph] and I’d still.

My skin’d wear easy for a while, 

Sedate with someone else’s tears.

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