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your lips sewn together
your jaws hollow as a cell
you carried on
living within
the equivocal procrastination
of being curiously still alive
as a queer seer
having grabbed some cut-off hands
started reading open palms
deciphering in them
all the eerie lines or scars
where he could see
the weird
pattern of life and death
he was like a sexless mummy
resurrected from the grave
a castrated Lazarus
being just bit weary
made of ashes simple shadow
weird skeleton
distributing decaying flesh