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in the void encompassing all that


was holy

;now left undefined;

and that hole is endless.

filled not by an infinity of rhyming nouns

nor the bold vocabulary

of her mighty collection of rotting tongues

that abyss begs for blood

and will take her

when her throat is dry and caked with mud

spoons cracking weakened teeth

no longer clenching around bright sparks that were


so eager

to invest

in the run-on sentences of life.

and when that love that kept her awake was


leaving no silence in its wake;

it became so very


she began to clip the crickets’ wings

and tie all the blue birds' beaks

and muffle every desperate sigh

that weighs so heavily on every weary step.

she knows the abyss is coming


to the feast.

and she knows


never stays.

so to say goodbye

she thread her last shred of sanity through a needle head

and sewed her mouth shut;

The quiet was quite nice.

she thought;

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