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Bag Of Mice
I dreamt your suicide note
was scrawled in pencil on a brown paperbag,
& in the bag were six baby mice.
opened into darkness,
from the top down.
huddled at the bottom, scurried the bag
across a shorn field.
I stood over it
& as the burning reached each carbon letter
of what you'd written
your voice released into the night
like a song, & the mice
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