Thursday, December 6, 2007

The Child Inside

she sits
listening to the sound of air
and snow
pressure in her chest
she starts to cough
something red
something black
comes up from inside
and it is dark and whole

it writhes in a pile on the floor
like a fish out of water
a child
a face like the devils
and a satine heart

what it once was
was wrapped
like a gift
that no one could have
wrapped in thorns

love is like bread
left out and forgotten
old and hard
for consumption

the child stares at her
milky white eyes like a mule’s
it’ froths and spits
a black shadow wrapped around one
a hand
holds on tight
squeezes and
the child
with its black hair
and small hands

she stands
she stretches
she takes a deep breath
and she puts one foot
into the waters
then walks away

her heart one solid
thump at a time
a warm loaf
from the oven
waiting to be

she leaves behind fresh prints in the snow.

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