Underworld, oh, under the rocks, under the soil, under the clouds and the rivers and lakes. Underneath, not between, you rest, waiting for a beast to fall into your loving embrace. Undertows, though terrifying initially, bring about a magnifying glass, a light source that is focused and purposeful. Under all of the shit, the dead bodies, the cement and the flower patches, you wait for us all, like the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you're nervous. You are nervousness, you are feeling.

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