Sunday, April 12, 2009

04.12.09

Her posture these days resembles a concave mirror in its distorted shape. A book of dissent sits behind yellow caution tape. Her anger resides in thin plank veneers beneath her skin. Tree rings encased by a textured bark. A serpent skin forgotten in the yellow laundry basket lies beside a satin shift. Push a cart among the temple ruins and hands will burn against the metal cage.

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