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Ode to Miller

Chaos suspends her.
She stands still like the hummingbird,
furiously beating wings
that take her no-where.

Wings that are heavy,
ripe with alcohol, they drip
medication,
discontent.

She floats there,
still born in ataxia
lifeless and perfect,
like a hummingbird.

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Comments


  • ea silver member
    August 14, 2008
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    wow, this is heavy and startling in its somber observation of a still born child.