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The Fag Hag
I have given to the world my body—
famished by their wrath,
dried up by the char of their needs,
hollowed by their hunger for
what is not in me.
I have given to them my body as it bathes
on a hopeless thinking
that it is unscathed.
I have submitted to them
my body but not my heart
(my mind’s best friend, my soul’s dwelling.)
What my heart holds—
why the world refused to take it—
is a poem
only you could comprehend
and perhaps have it as your own.
All I can give you is my heart—
my mind’s best friend, my soul’s dwelling—
and nothing more.
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