has teeth, it does

clawing through tissue

like my own little dragon

rending medulla, pons.

grey spurts of horn curl

temple to spine

inside the cavern of my skull.

impact of meeting releases

dull chitinous scraping

a conversation with my blood

dries the thoughts and pins them

like transparent wings under glass

of a mounting board. No drug

will release them, my little children

so young to be eaten alive

drip, fangs, and smile.

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