Bekah: I've decided to go half and half, I'll write some for my screnzy and some in general, just in case you're wondering.
#1 Finger in the Dust
I could close the curtains
and they didn't shrivel at my touch
or fall, dissolve and split
like hair-line fractures of the flesh
(and birthday candles).
I could hear my children
and they didn't lie so still,
their faces marked by rose-bud moss
that grew and settled in the pores
(still beautiful).
I could fold their smiles
to fit in threads of lullaby dreams
that resonated at my touch, my breath.
There was a stain, on the carpet
(by his chair).
I used to wish it gone -
oh how it lingered, falsely strong.
I hoped their hands would always fit my palm
but not like this, reserved in nursery bliss
with only smoke to breathe.
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Meh. Hopefully the script writing will go better.
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