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Apr 2013
so shriveled, small at times,
yet large on the by & by,
a shiny laquer of a shell,
the center hollow
expands & invades neighboring
territories

begin to
swallow people,
experiences,
substances,
time & money in
ever increasingly big gulps
consumption without taste

never feeling quite full,
never feeling totally satisified
the boundaries expand
& the entrapment ever present
begins to instill itself inside
my mind & my being

the ever mutable sponge,
ideas & sentiments only
ever ephemeral
nothing remains,
nothing lasts forever
i have no memories

turn up the volume,
only to render myself deaf,
crave that intense color
when the world plays out
forever in black & white
is gray is the goal?

feel dead during the day
& molt every evening
the night & its shade
keep the beasts at bay
there is no color,
there is only an Itch
that I can’t seem to scratch

but i have no hands
& my body is not my own
La Jongleuse
Written by
La Jongleuse  France
(France)   
781
   Gary Muir
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