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there are pleistocine perils - little grey fox, out in the cold, can you see past your nose? lyrics

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it’s flight or fight,
and my eyes are wide
my mouth is full of unfiltered air
and my ribs are heaving
and my hair is bristled and pr-ckly
an adrenal being, we are!

i could have told you that fighting was foreplay,
but i couldn’t stop staring at the blood on my knuckles.
it’s these brutal consistencies that make me a thing you should despise,
but you will not flip the latch free.
my osteums are humming still,
with the quake of your hold
i should want to stay,
but my bones want to leave,
and i go where they go.

it would be wrong to say that the steam that rises
from an open body in the cold is the greatest relief
which is why i say it, probably
with a mouth full of blood,
and i leave the meat to rot

little, little grey fox
out in the cold
can you see past your nose?



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