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Mar 2012
“They have some cheek!”
A little twitch of the nose,
a little lick on the hands.
Blink once, blink twice, a third.

“I thought we had settled this!”
The hard, white pond makes my
feet sting, the square black puddles
tempting me to stop and have a drink.

“How many times must we do this?”
There is no more stuffiness in the air,
the night inside the walls has vanished.
The acid in the air burns my nose tunnels.

“This had better be the last time!”
Dashing in and out of the polished trees,
covered by the same silky white sky, making
my way to the large silver acorn that never ages.

“We’re going to have to work at this relationship!”
Jumping into the pockets of night hidden in
the crevices, scuffling behind the rubbery ivory.
I wait with anticipation for my yellow beauty.
Alex Crilly-Mckean
Written by
Alex Crilly-Mckean
817
   matthewkirn
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