Glass Buddha

He’s sitting

I can see

intestines inside

mirror me

 

He’s laughing

I can hear

the sighs of leaves

reaching down

 

He moves not

I move inside

and sit too

in his invisible flesh

and knock on glass

 

He carries me

nowhere but still

into the centre

a female cock

 

He spits me out

never, not even

when they beg

and kiss his tongue

 

He dreams

I cling

not to anything

and dream too

 

He whispers

that we

were always twins

I say I know that now

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