Saturday, July 31, 2010


She twists her brow against the table

This More Than Anything Must Go Nameless

The universe is soft, tender; one quadrant is filled with splinters

This Must Go Nameless

Every word Dripping nonsense

More Than Nameless

Breaths that scrape the bottom of each lung

This Must Go

An apologetic smudge on two half crooked fingers

Go

She is afraid

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