Ode to the Halfway Point

August 18, 2013
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I am halfway into this world,

lips etched into my face like

the kiss of a serrated knife

against soft melon flesh.

I am a middling shade of grey,

hovering melodically in the

noonday sky, shot with pale

flower petals and the raw

smell of gasoline.

I am the halfway point, looking

behind and before me in a

beveled edge mirror, eyes

trickling upward into the

spherical sun.

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