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grief weeps like the slice in fruit.
by Silver Haze
13 lines, 2 comments,
on Nov 24 11:54 PM
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the vapor of years,
the molecules breathed in
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when my smile leaves, solid as slate on the walkway,
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I can't write about loving you.
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they press like puppies blindly
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even you can't make this pretty:
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I grow dense and sick
as a thunderhead
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as I bloat to fill the spaces you've left
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I am the epitome
of nails,
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under the smoke of sky
rolling from creases of sapphire hills
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Black heel stems wrap around the chair leg,
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a woman so tired
even her shadow is wilting
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the Vilnius ghetto song swings me
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my head is shaking, incredulous
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As morning breaks the scratching
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Beneath this globe of bone, tousled forests
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I'm beginning to feel the distance,
edges scraping
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On February mornings
I found myself undisturbed
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I am finding myself dreading the crusty,
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the path coiled around the mountainside,
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It's funny how you watch your bulbous reflection
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We watched their faces shine with tear streams like tinsel,
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Tubes flow out like sickening phantom limbs caked with blood and spit,
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I flip through pictures of swelling blue mountains
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Her skin is the frost on dying grass,
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I hold these things I took with me,
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A peeling train of light blue paint
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Red was the slick, thin sheath
over Ava's little nails,
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At the corner of the rough pine table, encased in curved glass,
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I saw the photograph there, where the scabby brick walls
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As for you, your breath stings my nose,
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He would have already felt
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Sleep is a pool where I can dip my toes.
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