Monday, December 29, 2008

i like punctuation, but the period is a serious one

like so much dust
into the air, into my nostrils, between my nose hairs
into my body cavities, to be swept under the rug
no remembrance here
but the creeping tickle.
it was just a season.
a windy one -
blown through passageways of
yes.
maybe.
no(longer)

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