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Consequences of our actions stare us in the face 

It licks it's fingers and loves the taste,

sitting on the tree in a far away jungle troubled by peace 

It's love of war is a myth 

It's leaves no trace, invisible until the day of his appearing

Until the beautiful piece of mango you've been licking so jealously is punctuated by sand 

Sands of time falling with reckless abandon through a smoothly curved figure eight piece of glass

It swings like balls of pundulum between a man's thighs but may not bow to the laws of physics 

It cannot be calculated 

Cannot be seen like the wind but can be felt 

It is what told you "Mama go kill you"

 when she found you with the piece of meat held closely to your thighs and oil dripping down your light brown chinos trousers

We come like dripping oil we entail slippery slaps

We may take time but we cannot give them 

We are the morning nightmares of a man who has spent his days in evil 

We are sites of the word promise 

We are fidelity

We are karma we keep our words



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