Poised in wheelchair fortress, Her hovering hands tremor, Seeking precise location For every stainless treasure - Forks with forks, Knives with knives, Spoons with spoons, Oversized on the side. Was it a sin To remix again, When it kept her from falling in - ...to mouths of hounds eating human legs. ...to barrels of a shadow man's gun. ...to black elixir of veins. ...to wrath of mania's demons. I should have faded away, Like her whimpers of my name; Echoing with sterile pain. In dreams I reach to comfort her, Met by muted shine of dull eyes - Like the tarnished token I stole as I said goodbye; Concavity refracting convexity of time.
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