tastes like mud

the thing you pushed towards
that tastes like mud
the dullness of your blood
the slowing of your mind

you move around joy
and you touch the inclusiveness
but you are a lie
and you are a dagger withdrawing

in the stairwell
l’esprit d’escalier
trying to reverse
after moving forward for so long

nothing can can make a case for right
when it seems so wrong

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