bodies
in prison they talk about bodies. how many here, how many there, the incarcerated only technically living. as if each tear rent face each knotted hand were blank and limp. imagine a fire, they say, and the doors are locked from the outside. wouldn’t you want to take a separate exit? the bodies tumbling down one stairwell, you should take the other. listen this could all go up in flames in an instant.
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August 2020
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