This is the death everyone
has been talking about-- the break
away from my limbs, torso, volition...
each snap litters more of me on
the ground. I wince and nod an
acceptance; I pretend I know
how to do this, say, "I've been
through this before". I lie
through what are left of my teeth.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
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1 comment:
I love "each snap litters more of me."
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