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Command “T” dear Mac
And I toggle
Between lunch
And fashion
And decor
And rape:

Recipes I’m too lazy to make
Clothes I’m too gauche to fake
Walls I’m too unskilled to break
Actions I’m too pusillanimous to take.

Caramelized succulence thrust in a bird
Dressed in oxblood flamboyance
Aligning photographs in an accent wall
Collapsing organs within her.

Command “T” on my twilight hour
And I toggle
Between dinner
And lullabies
And Lysol
And marriage

And I think —
It’s so much
Easier
To Swing
Legs Kicking
‘tails Swirling
Belly hurling
Between lunch
And fashion
And decor
And rape.

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