Thursday 20 October 2011

I hear the pop,
and the embers turn white.
I breathe it all in,
coughing and sputtering
spit down my beard.
Bits of ashen dirt and paint in my mouth
Spit it out,
the liars that took residence,
the soul whoring,
into a tiny black pool
of human reasidue.
There is no response,
the only thing I want.

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