Wallets and table linens

March 8, 2009

collateral crash, core porceline thoughts
cracked polished shattered.
something to think about-
twice the thoughts baked into small dishes
vermicelli conversations- slightly strung across delicately minced words.
Embarrassment fills the glass like new wine poured from an oak bottle-
it just doesn’t make sense.

I don’t own my body
I own my thoughts.

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