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It’s one of those nights
the fist is a rock
you swallow…….you choke
you wonder what hands are for
it rained poisoned apples
with bites out of them
there’s blood…….between legs
and the sheets are cold

touch screens are frozen
and immune to fingers
if not…….refresh,
restart

…………if only you could

somewhere in the nimbus
tick time…..bombs
dressed like damsels
unwittingly…….waiting
for the poison
to run its course

and if it’s not snow
…..it’s sleet
or rain…….in sheets
unmade beds with red stains
the dread of Mondays
and alarm clocks
feeling of a balled up
fist……in the throat
and can’t speak
.


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“Relaxing My Mind” by photographer Anna Marcell

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