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  • I hated my name as a child.
    I craved glamour -
    Esmeralda was my weapon of choice.
    Not this name, mis-pronounced, spellchecked, unruly.
    A name sitting dully
    Mushroomed to the earth.
    Sinuous paths
    All gently circled
    Back where I started, yet never the same.

    Comfortably upholstered the cushions to jump on
    The face to the public all rounded and soft
    Yet snake-sliver too flickers lewdly
    Hinting at less savoury worlds.
    Is there a letter missing?
    No, no jagged lines to cut through soft flab,
    Just something missing,
    Scattered fields
    Far from home.
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