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Created on: September 22, 2008
Hollow
It's not so obvious
the tears that spill down my cheeks
because I have a hollow inside.
The drops follow the curves of my flesh
and bone, my clavicle and ribcage,
forming a lipid pool in my breast
that I carry around with me.
And when I lay down to sleep,
my silver lake spills forth onto
the pillow like an angry
river of dreams.
Learn more about this author, Jeffery Reynolds.
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