Poetry.
Four inches long and jagged, with a
Right handed twist on the way down.
A serious surprise. A fever that
Cuts right through, from the tips of her toes to
The top of her head. Unusual and often
Unseen, this wound was reclusive,
Remaining in the background, like an
Exit sign, softly glowing about the
Doorway on the way out.
[08/20/2009]
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