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Marble

There were sobs.
Deafening sobs,
louder,
and louder,
that didn’t cease.
The door was calling me,
it said
“Come closer,
you know you want
to see.”-
But I didn’t
want to see,
because the sobs
got louder.
I looked down
at the candy bowl
and it said
“Take a piece and
ease your mind.”,
but I couldn’t
take a piece
and ease my mind,
because the sobs quieted,
and I wanted to see.
That door pulled me
by my arm
into the dull room
with endless chairs,
and in the front of that room
was what I wanted
to see.
I walked up to the front of the room
and my heart
felt empty.
I said, “Is it warm?”,
and the man said
“No, it is cold.”,
so I touched the skin.
It was smooth and hard,
but stole the warmth
from the tips of my fingers.
I recoiled
in an instant.
I thought, why,
why would I do that,
why would I touch that,
why am I here?
Why would I touch a corpse?
But I touched it
because of compulsion,
and because it was the last time
I would ever touch the cold marble
that was my mother’s skin.



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