and castrated it in my dust
i have stripped it cold
held its pride
in bear-trap hands snapped
and spit on the remains
i have cupped it
hushed it
sang it the lullabies of children
after i had blown sand in its eyes
and made it cry
i have cursed it wildly
with bohemian lips
while i finished the un-
timely emasculation
and no mountain has ever looked
the same
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