Giraffe River

My one and only sovereignty
Is undeniable sadness.

In these remote soliloquies
I would seek forgiveness

For something other than being alone.
There is a pleading stone in my throat,

Neither gemstone nor the coke
Smoked from under a distant slope,

I own my descendency, my business
Being a militant trope

Ossified into a monopyrenous
Imported drupe,

A flag flutters briefly over my eyes,
And in that dimming whittled flute

Sounds of my endless demise.

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