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Musings
Monday, 12/13/2004
Swallowed







I saw the mirror
all my sensual needs
form illusions around me like
a caring friend.

Guilt and solitude
made my bedroom huge.
You appear at night
both dead and alive
leaning toward me like marbled
quarried madness.

I am vulnerable at your
hands as you are poured
out into flames that leap
from a fragrant garden of women
of wives, two cruel snakes.

I am a hot furrow
suddenly, insane.


D.Claudia Ash
Muse6165@copyright.com

Posted by poetry/muse6165 at 9:52 PM EST
Updated: Monday, 01/03/2005 9:13 PM EST
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