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Nov 1
A little boy
appeared before my door
in a bird mask with a hooked beak
and soulless eyes.
The heavy black cape
brought me back to a time
where Iā€™m dead by now.
The rash that bubbles up
under my skin when I am stressed
looks like mild sunburn compared to
the puckered and rippling purple sores
covering a body.
In another life, was I staring up into a face
That promises death?
And I gave the boy some candies,
grateful that I was not alive during the time
when I would have given the plague doctor
my soul.
Written by
Christine Ely  mn
(mn)   
78
     annh, Shane, Fawn, forgotten and Elle H
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