life’s a half-crazed, wildeyed thriveling

her pupils tremble and dilate

in a dream she seems

to walk along the cornstalks

eating ryebread

she thumbs seeds

into the sand


death’s a half-sane, disconnection spanning

her non-claws don’t click,

constantly cleaving

s/he saunters along the concrete

with a smile but no plan

eats nothing and drags

life by her hair

1 thought on “yang-yin

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