There are 120 articles on this title. You are reading the article ranked and rated #14 by Helium's members.
I remember
French fries in all night diners
before the blank space
in my address book.
Brightly colored dubbed CDs
tossed about in your messy car
before the final tick sounded
time frozen behind your delicate iris.
Then- tongue with worm, beetled lips
old earth over new grave.
Such lack of sound
minute hand stuck
frozen in the space between
one heartbeat and another.
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Poetry: Grief
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