The Tunnel

I am crawling through a tunnel with a ceiling

Thinner than skin

Why don’t you just burst through

Says the zombie citizen

He says the skin is ample

Like a fat lady’s ankle

Fatty on the outside

And swollen like ageing apples

Peeled away, another day

Like skin from skin

We’ll separate

Skin grows anew

I’m not for you

The old skin dies

The old skin dries…

Smoky kiss and stroked on wrists

Is it windy in the tunnel

Asked scientists

I look ahead

The skin still dead

Isn’t flying away

It remains today

Still boxed in

Skin so thin

Tunnel so narrow

Fear sits in

This tunnel goes on forever

Says the hipster in bright sweater

Moody micro aggression

Sexual frustration

Better

Emotional recession

Legs bent, crawling through

Fun for her

Hell for you

Heaven for me

Tunnels are free

Are dug themselves

For escape, mostly

This tunnel is too small

Says the wide, benighted fool

Whom it wasn’t designed for it at all

The woman who crawled through this tunnel would have surely died

Said the man waiting on the other side.

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