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Post by Al Truest on Mar 25, 2010 19:27:31 GMT
Poorly Sewn Quilt
How low would it be - would you consider it evil - to break a solemn trust to twist a parental bond into a poetic license to steal innocence to betray confidence to be deluded enough even now to become smug to become sarcastically brazen
the smallness of spite the incremental steps back toward the edge reveal the depths of an evil delusion that rips the moral fabric into small pieces only to be sewn together one at a time into a patchwork of denial a construct of rationalization a creation of convenience a laziness of effort an abandonment of responsibility and now the spinning begins again under this cloak of darkness
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Adena
Moving
This time around we dance - we're chosen ones
Posts: 611
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Post by Adena on Aug 12, 2011 5:53:47 GMT
Animals
i do not count with numbers. nor can I count with fingers. i count with shadows in my mind. raven, one. the one who came before. bear, two. she who is mother no more. canines run from three to ten, a varietous pack, dogs, wolves, puppies, and a coyote at the back. eleven, golden lump of fur a lion, who now will not stir. twelve, the saddest. tearful eyes. dead deer, shed of earth's disguise.
i do not live by numbers. nor do I use my fingers. i do not leave my mind. the one i love knows where i'll be far from land, from sky and sea. we inhabit all three...
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