::: Bath :::

::: Bath :::

the city is built within seven hills
I live on the toenails of one
it hurt so I couldn’t breathe
as rain spattered my plate glass chest
I wondered at the ancients who chose
why bathe in so many clouds?

under the eyes of others’ gods
will a helmet keep you dry when
gallows god calls out the storm
but you loved your dignity
sacrifice buried at the crossroads
throat smiling with bloody despair

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