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there was blood

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there was blood on your face
your thin long fingers
– a dog barking outside –
you were a photograph
forever still like the sun coming in from the eternal sunset on the end of paradise
there was a knife twisting on the chest
spinning, speeding
– I wish I could get used to your presence.

Written by Renata Chebel

December 9, 2011 at 10:50 pm

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