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bemusedlybespectacled
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stalling
I'm pretending that I can't see the slow tick of time as I type the first words I have written in years is it years? have I waited that long? how long did I ignore that steady slow tick of time as I let other things take my hands.
cook
She is cheerful in a miserable place her cheeks are round in a friendly face and she is warm and kind like ovens standing on iron legs she holds you with her hands that have kneaded bread needed you to tell her that you loved her like the mother that you've never had did you?
nourish
Her mother's breast millk pouring into an open mouth salty and sweet pure full of nutrients needed for a healthy mind to grow and grow and grow until there is another mother and another baby nature vs. nuture so clearly at work nourishing.
pouch
I curl inside the warmth of you hidden within the maternal fold waiting for that one moment when I shall see light for the first time and take my first shaking steps tasting air and leaping in it and bounding with newfound exertion.
insect
It moves beneath your notice underfoot with little legs that move independently though its mind is that of the hive moving as one merely one dancer in a single troupe. To gather food to kill its prey they're all the same and yet different.
ant
It moves in hazy crazy lines with no pattern to them but the faintest scents and finds its way and winds its way to the sugar food it loves and carries the burden on its back to its queen not the queen it loves, but the queen its forced to serve beneath the iron will of the colony.
skeleton
A pile of bones not quite bleached still with the trappings of sinew and bone behind the white picket fence under the fertilized roses and orchids but not the wildflowers they don't belong in the garden she was a wildflower too wild for this woman who stabbed her with a spade under the roses her fertilizer is all-natural, she says.
ticket
When I was young, my daddy would play the Beatles music, soft and bouncy like the sheets that were tents under glow-in-the-dark sticker stars. "She's gotta ticket to ride but she don't care!" they sang and I didn't understand, not then.
ticket
She grasped the slim piece of paper in her hand, worrying it between her fingers, twisting it. Her future was there - so close. Just one step and she'd be out of this cow town, to the city and lights and freedom and smog. She turned to him and buried her face in his shirt. "I can't go."
sticks
Sticks and stone may break my bones but words will never hurt me except they do. They break your soul and crush it into dust beneath the endless volley of rocks stoning and the abject horror of a person left alone in the cold defenseless.
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