Thursday, September 16, 2010

What am I holding on to?
A butterfly?
Should I let it free?
You don't have the heart to.
But I should; for the one month it gets to live a life of its own.
It always did.

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The plea in the eyes are not being seen. Not being. Should the sockets be emptied? The soul killed? The head rationed?

The moon summoned?

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