Thursday, April 15, 2010

napowrimo #15

This kind of followed the prompt, but not completely. It's titled "Changes" for now.

You didn't promise a floating place
for us. All you did was teach me the pain
of missing. Pain as unflavored as gum
chewed for hours. I became broken, off-center,
like a tire hung from a branch:
a wooden skeleton of before and after.

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