-When I look in the mirror
> my privilege is invisible
> and a small black beetle wanders down the glass, aimless
> as a gray sky passing
> through stormclouds,
> and I face the facets of my opposites
> that draw me from myself
> to new climates, rainforests of misbelief, a citrus...
> No, - that would be stupid.
> So it came:
> acne.
born good independent and equal
to break into a hundred thousand flaws
the centre being nowhere, the periphery
everywhere. the moist breath
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