REKlektikos
An eclectic mix of both published and unpublished essays and poetry on a myriad of subjects.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Blind Spots
I still see her
lips move.
Her last
half
word
hangs
in the
air
like
a live
grenade.
Soon,
I'd lose more.
Tomorrow
went first.
Then,
today quickly
followed.
I still see
yesterday.
It
hangs
in the
air
like
a live
grenade.
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