
A Beautiful Night
Hands shoved deep into his pockets
She thought, “They belong in my hair”
Shoved deep in his pockets.
(It’s the question of ownership
With hands shoved deep in pockets
He owns himself).
Hands shoved deep into his pockets
She thought, “They belong in my hair”
Shoved deep in his pockets.
(It’s the question of ownership
With hands shoved deep in pockets
He owns himself).
Today I want to tear this alabaster skin away
From every sick and twisted crime that has been committed
In the name of whiteness, full of ancient perverse fears.
It could be something.
Or nothing.
Or the rest of your life.
Prolonged isolation,
Home of the Brave
Sleep deprivation,
Land of the Free;
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