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Grace Ezeqiuel - In The Wake Of Aids

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In The Wake Of Aids

Sexual partners
have no faces

Our vague pulses
beat separate rhythms.

Relations have shrunk
to one bleak meteor

Jealousy is arrested
we flirt with whoever we want.

Love songs are quaint remains of
being in love, whatever that was.

Faithful fluids
are what matters.

Our contract is sealed
with a certified

license to fuck.

Grace Ezequiel

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