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My Beautiful Egg

This eggshell has me opened within,
Excelling, stalking and betraying my friend,
A piece of the hatred of one’s foes
Has excited my threatening mind,
Within is the convolution, the separation,
The wonderful, and the extreme.
My eggs are bound to repel the compounds
Of my voice, shells are discarded
Due to the figs, being graveyards of fruit.
My shell is opened like a beautiful egg,

A head for entering the twins and deaths.
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Friday, May 8, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: egg
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