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[from The Church (2)]

Rauan Klassnik

A gazelle’s shifting its eye. Settles in you. Drags down your chest. On your hands and knees. You. And your pale white skin.

A crocodile’s pale-white skin.

The river flows past me. On both sides of me. And the sea’s waiting. You——and your teeth. And your small grey mouth.

Arrogant. Pale and white.

Worms——their eyes frozen with mercury.

Worms——their eyes growing forever.

Thieving. Passionate. Tongued. In tatters. Blue. Bloated.

Glittering all round me.

Like you. The sea.


Its mouth. Pale and white.


Branched. Silver. And bright.

Rauan Klassnik

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