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Skeletons

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Satin ribbon
strokes my hands and pierces my sides
like shards of unfeeling ice
Warm,
Auburn, satin ribbon

Though you've barely spoken,
How you could use the few words you speak to cut;
I somehow understand.
We're terrible people aren't we.
Dodging spot lights like fugitives
Dodging hard questions like politicians
Knife under my pillow
dagger hidden in my stocking
Geez you're such a sadist!

But I'm no better am I.

It's twisted isn't it.
Demented isn't it.
Words hang 'round that neither will utter.
And we both know, in the air they will stay.
No matter how loudly they yell in our faces.

We pharisees must be the stress lines on God's forehead.



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