they tried to leave the city
but never made it
to the front door.
their limpid eyes
filled with tears
that clung to their corneas
& stagnated there.
words made landfills
of their mouths &
they choked on their rot.
they lay together
& every night,
fused together at the hips.
in the mornings,
they wearily used a scalpel
to separate.
their breath purred,
stuck in their lungs
like a reluctant cat,
peering past their yellow teeth
before darting back down.
- & her son, her son!
stalled in the womb,
growing hair, nails,
whose teeth lengthened
& whose bones stretched -
he grew to be eight
inside of her.
there they are,
tottering towards the television,
blindly shuffling
around the easy chairs,
suffocated
by static
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