Tongues flew to a congress,
balled together flesh of eyes,
noses, fingers, and ear lobes.
So desperate the lust to feel
all stolen away from its owners’
even keel.  We stood and reeled
at the loss, stunned at the void
that our sense had left behind,
how hungry our mouths sucked
in runes from a chalk board, and
begged to read their symbols,
begged to hear their words.
How eagerly we licked lard
from fingers above, drip by drip,
only the feeling of swallowing
reminding us that we are real.


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