Why I Stay the Same

It’s the opening head shot,/ it must prefigure your hand,/to follow through with a jab/it’s looking for an open wound./You start with a blow that’s fatal,/you take it from there./Dawn’s light falls in cells,/to answer every intrigue,/all known business;/needs no reason to waste time./It summons sight from shadows,/it explicates even more,/ with an ocean of ink/(but not much more.) Success is the dependent of a hand and a wrist./( Not much more.)/Again, when I’m free,/I don’t cry any longer,/I’ll be able to make it/to meet you at the station./ But I fear the gaze of the stationmaster/more than you could ever imagine./I’m galled; to taste other drinks,/ alcohol alone explains/ to every mother’s son/why I stay the same./Because I move in a swarm/ I’m sure of my status, imprisoned/only by the code of my nature.

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