Thursday, July 3, 2014


whatever it was that

was done to you,

it is the Nothing

that makes you

what you are:

the lover whose hair

you can’t quite remember,

the touch that disappears

from your skin in the cab

on the way home.

the heart is a flood

full of emptiness

no tea time can claim.

we exchange masks

like fruitless children,

hugging dolls with blind eyes,

riddles with no answers,

mastering the language of

snakes in silence,

keeping company with monsters.

Life is some times a fairy tale

with bad teeth.

Don’t tell me you didn’t know.

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