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I have a cemetary inside. No fences. Bodies are layered East, west, north, south. Legs and arms wrap my organs, Squeezing sideways, lengthways And diagonally. Dates are heartstones Chiselled in my brain. They arrive unexpectedly, Some from places I've not visited, And stay. It's crowded, They keep coming. I've flowers and meditations as well, And sit quietly amidst the noise And visit.
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
Carry That Weight.
I have a cemetary inside. No fences. Bodies are layered East, west, north, south. Legs and arms wrap my organs, Squeezing sideways, lengthways And diagonally. Dates are heartstones Chiselled in my brain. They arrive unexpectedly, Some from places I've not visited, And stay. It's crowded, They keep coming. I've flowers and meditations as well, And sit quietly amidst the noise And visit.
francie-lynch
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
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