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Abdication

My Compassion's mute by her bedside My bodies a host, a stopped up drain She sucks for emancipation And yet there is no air, no pillow light enough to bring sleep or dreams Hours n' hours a night I lay Shaky awake to her needs I fluff, I prop, I smile to soothe Counting my silence less I scream.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Book: Shattered Sighs