Flesh mere gossamer,
sagging drapery to clothe cold bones.
And the bleating heart,
mere dreams caged within ribs' hold,
servants to this mortal body
that demands obedience.
Let the uncaged heart sing!
Lofted by the wings of birds
or bats
or butterflies.
Let scarlet pus drip wherever it may.
The cloak now stained
falls away.
And we —
fly free.
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