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letra de real bodies - trough

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a dead child, a drowned child
chillblains, wet stones
slow c-n-l, dead water
are called forth

come forth

enter this room and stand

you fell from the bridge into the darkness of the water

and you will make us see
with eyes of moss
bruised black and tossed
raincloud and silt
by this coprolith they built

ghosts are in the mouth
dreams are in the mouth
so stand in this room

and you will draw near
as ectoplasm
over our face
as a piano key
striking suddenly

the discarded boy
so much refuse
in the slimy river
is called forth, come forth

they shot the husband
they shot his wife
they shot the roses
ghosts are in the mouth

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