I've seen her
sterilized by cleaning
products and numbed by
stiff drinks. She hides within
words, spoken or not,
and the zeroes of shopping
receipts. She burns in
the flames of shoebox
fires until she's snuffed by falling
tears. And when time renders
her forgotten, the mail
arrives with
her name
above
my address.
1 comments:
Wow man. 122 and you've still got it. I like how there's a bit of ambiguity at the beginning, but the topic becomes painfully real in the end. Strong images.
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