You are sickness
wringing the necks of
wildflowers along the highway

You are plumes of smog
drifting through the weakened
technological lungs of a computerized populace ill-
prepared for industrial waste the
likes of You

You are the stone pit
at the center of a festive meal
enjoyed by a cheery gathering

Most importantly:
You are bound by human
chains, unstable and sweet
unintentional but as deadly as
a socially repressive disease

You cling to life at the behest of
and with the condolences of
Death, immune to Your own decay.


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