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October 19, 2017

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Memento, 2017

October 19, 2017

Whenever that voice returns,
the voice of the flattened
flower she used to be

between his books,
between his outbursts,
between the sheets,

whenever she places 
blame upon herself,
upon her body

in the very places
his hands used to be,
she reads the police report.

By Anthony J. Hall, @anthonyjhall, www.anthonyjhall.net  

 

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