a mouth full of tiny destroyers,
to a bucket of boiling acid
on the way down, what remains
puts up a fight, digs in for the
push, pushes the blade into the
pulsing cavern, warm subway to hell
but, when it finally fails and falls,
oh, that is just the beginning -
it sparks!
the acid lights this fuse,
a quick creation, a lovely runner
sprinting through the red and blue avenues,
any of a thousand.
any of a million.
they all lead back to the top
ride this river,
run the writing red lines.
pound the bliss
into my fingertips.
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