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Mar 2011
sweet death
I feel you there
foreboding yet hidden
in the shuddering corner of the bleak room
peaceful, ominous presence reaching-
your black and white spiraling hands
desperately recalling flesh-memories

I searched the edges of that room's horizon
frantically calm to beckon you
within the broken clock
suspending yourself within it's crooked hands
assuring me of nothing; I thanked you
Joseph Martinez
Written by
Joseph Martinez  Detroit
(Detroit)   
470
 
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