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Twelve sons of god
peeling their hearts
until scraps fall to the
ground like orange peals,
arranged to make a man. The man
makes a trophy, gives it to
the girl. The girl is stolen
by strangers, her uncle finds
her, brings her back home.
He walks past the Lord, strengthens
his skin, falls on his knees.
An Angel sees him, adorned in
sunset, lifts him over mountains
raises his arm, kiss an image
of liberty.

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