Tortured To Compassion

appreciation starves in the corner, while
bug-eyed bulges of a food-encoded morsel, registered
in spider’s frequency, stares
out at a gaping horizon, mountains
jut from a hole in the space, the one
that’s sideways and platter drifting towards
this mouth-dilated with patience, eat
this spoonful of problematic scrutinizing or
there’s something wrong with the legitimacy
of your speech, while it enters and cools, and still
not moving a muscle, under
security watch with polygraph finger-attached,
they read the machine, each twitch
could be worth a million
if busted, however, stern as an abducted airplane,
a swollen knee-cap bruise, a world
full of stolen-souls aching to take revenge on anything,
he doesn’t move, blinks twice and says:

you can tell me to shovel hell
in the posture of this command, but
you shall never break the truth


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