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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1022488
Short and surreal. Winner of idril's "Abstract Poetry Contest."
Cautiously
we waited/walked,
I a dragonfly,
him an onion stem.

Too next to speak
and too revolting.
Glass of dust
- we knew

still clinging
like the cannibals
we are.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1022488-Silent-Sickness