Bite, bite slow, bite
hard, bite once and once more. Food comes slowly-slimy. The burnt
meat crumbs laced with reddish sauce and yellow-phlegmed noodles.
Bite, we’ll never surrender. She swallows her pills and high as a
kite wants to feed us. I’ll bite her finger to the bone. Behind the
cupboard rests her stash of bottles. In the afternoon she shouts
about the whores of the Universe. Her world drown in
fucking-machines. Under her pillow the kitchen knife guards against
them. We lock our doors and pray for fire
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