Sixfold manipulations

  A hexagon of dull knives

  Some clean, some chipped and rusty

  Keep your fingers away, just in case

  Six walls to protect myself

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  Six dykes to hold the hurricane at bay

  Six roads splitting off into the night

  All leading to the same end

  It's not a home that's fit for human habitation

  Not a gallery fit to be shown

  I'll shroud myself in six curtains of paper-thin dementia

  Coated in razor blades, falling apart at the slightest breeze

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