May 16, 2011

Aqua Regia

And all I see now is my face through a curtain: a pebbled pock-marked past, its burning by-lanes,

and drop by drop, like a leaking sewer, his love, pungent, corrosive, windblown.

And all I’ll see now is my unborn child learning the alphabet and its vitriolic histories:

H for He, H for Hate, H […]

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