Rudder Song
Stepping out the under-well,
square inclinations nearly nabbed
me, back under the pearly abattoir.
I pivot to find a stranger to startle,
but my own rabbit heart keep's flaying
the jitterbug and anywhoo it's hot.
I unpack a whistle to sizzle and
pick up a trot, a stench lashes
up against my plague, is the
gunk in my veins conspiring
to clot? Only my body knows
and we aren't speaking.
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