It is a weight that I carry
in a calabash pot on my head.
It seeps through my scalp, leaps soundlessly
between the synapses in my brain.
It creeps along the tunnel
of my spinal column, swims
in my very marrow.
It nibbles at me, at my fingertips and toes,
with small, sharp teeth.
If only I could keep it confined
to the calabash pot,
but it leaks out through cracks
too small for the world to see.
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