Thursday, December 18, 2014

that night
the image of an old church
arrives late
there is no priest
there
my gallbladder is full
and i let it go
i could be the groom
waiting for the bride
but it is only a wish
then the image of an
old house flashes in my
mind later
i wake up
switch on the light at the headboard
the clock reads
2 pm
i could have been
a black butterfly
the one the old women of the
house dread
but i cut if off
i promise them
i do not want to be
a pain
in their asses
anymore
i am not that good
enough
at killing them
with what i cannot be.

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