Day 18 – Betrayal

You are

Dark trickster

Hidden in the hollow of the hand

The pill

That opens the eyes

The coin

That flashes across the palm

These feelings

Are not my own

The locus of everything is this little white pill

And you said

That the pill would become a calendar

Would become a star

Would become the world

And now I am trapped

In the sphere

Of this little white pill

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