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I'llsleepwhen I'm dead.

After your dreams have all died and morning isn't morning, what are you?
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❝ I did not let you fuck me when you asked
so you assumed I was a gentleman,
tied back your locs to keep them away
from my eyes. Your name will fell you.
You like soul music. Your body is Biblical.
I am learning not to want sons
with you. Both eldest and youngest slain
by prophecy. I am supposed to say
things that will make you believe—death
is a sweet song. Because you only held
me with your big body, I will thank you
with my small voice. This is an elegy
for you. Fear not. Doomed flesh, I will sing
you down, I will sing you to your knees. ❞

Phillip B. Williams, Southern Comfort

(Source: whale-bone)

Posted 1 year ago with 10 notes
Tagged with #Phillip B. Williams#Southern comfort#poetry#vinyl poetry

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