CORPUS CALLOSUM

fuck perfection
like a hole in my skull
if anything makes me dull
it’s sewn lips
and neural fibres
that split
 
create as much noise
as bad lighting suggests
infect the output
with acuity
and wit
 
subjectify subjective
experience
with delirious measures
exhuming long-held
treasures
 
that we all thought
were dead.
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