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Celia Oct 2014
Peculiar is it —
the effect of another set of limbs.
More often than not, take their toll over us.
                beyond bodies, hollow
                bones, frail
A casual vacancy which soon prevails.

Translucent tethers, often bound
Maps are drawn by the lines of an idle frown.
Rhythmic lullaby hidden behind a tired wheeze

I disappear,
beneath your crown.


What I'm trying to say here is that your
                                                                ­      limbs,
they captivate me and hold my body down.
They piece my bones until I'm me again
and
allow my worn out strings
to reach ubiquitous ground.


*(c.b)
Finally publishing & still feels nowhere near perfected or having reached potential

— The End —