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Jun 2015
Crimson seeping from fresh meat sliced,
As a screwdriver hit with intent.

Bone gives way like a hard shell sweet,
Giving up the soft pliable centre.

As the straws bladed beneath insert inwards
Thrusting, as twists give up what's wanted.

Thoughts ingested as dead eyes look up
Mmm....
Still warm....
Poetic T
Written by
Poetic T  On Oblivions Doorstep
(On Oblivions Doorstep)   
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