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WARNING: We are coming
You can hem us in, ring around us;
barricades are built to be broken.
Fists as pile-drivers stab the air, hang
on time as if stamped on retinas.
Depend on it: we will be there, are
always rising, activated by outrage.
We are magical realism: not monsters
but myth, born out of necessity.
Have your cake but know who starves;
if the crumbs are light don’t breathe.
You might feel tall, imagine us ants,
but we burrow, undermine foundations
bleed in florid luminescence, show
ourselves as human weakness… but
red is the ink of corrections; we edit
your work, demand an auditor. Now.
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