I sit examine words as cries
your voice is floating up, up
and away right past my downward eyes.
Hushed struggle from behind the door
the closet rattles on the screen, flashflash
light comes screaming on your floor.
Lion Faux! you shout, spit waiting at
the edge of your lips, and by the life in my bones,
I will not kiss. I say correct your fatal mistake
"Fauxlion, chéri." But
the teeth are very real indeed.
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