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Blackout Ruby

  • Chadwick Ahn
  • Jan 11, 2018
  • 1 min read

We fall, deeper and deeper into the atavistic pipes,

Rust from centuries ago scraping our skin

leaving behind a trickle of blood—

A metallic concoction catches the breath in our throats

And crushes it without hesitation; a machine without empathy or a sibling to call twin

DNA is found,

A specimen created,

To look exactly like

Number one, sliding deeper… no, peeling…

Peeling like potatoes down a grated chute—

Only the sweetest core left, a freshly cut gem,

Clattered in a pit, too far buried to shine

In the light of your eyes.

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