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Jan 2016
How the heart becomes a stone. Of unavoidable weight, sharp as a quill.
I wonder, what stranger’s blood gathers in these gravitous veins?
A picture: black stone. Black hearth.

There is an unkempt room, grey with milklight.

Someone wanders there, as a body dragged into the woods.
Chelsea Chavez
Written by
Chelsea Chavez  Fairfield, CA
(Fairfield, CA)   
   Eiliv Advena
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