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Jun 2015
the dance I do with
myself
somehow, deliberately stomping on
my own feet.

stopping just before the gap oh-
I mind it
don't mind if I
do pass right THROUGH it.

shoot the foot? I have holes
to the stars.

I could hang hooks on the wounds I've
pierced in my nervous little soul.

Confident bark, blink and nod.

"Padlocked and sealed," I'll say.

But through my teeth, raw, I know I'm just treading mud
and banking on the Gods.
copyright fhw, 2015
F White
Written by
F White
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