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Selfie

Mantis girl, all legs and arms, a mess of open wounds. Too many mouths open, too many blank eyes. Femina juvenilia. A pink heap in front of a secret room, filled with stuffies and unread words. No story, just strings, your body opened like a bruised pet. You are a shell, painted but not understood. You have failed to be immortal.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things