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Runcible Spoon

heart logo Privacy Notice Ryan Quinn Flanagan

Bare Feet

 

over a floor

of fire

 

the hot coals

of nothing to drink

and even less

to eat

 

when I fall into bed

it may as well be

a grave

 

the dark is here

and much of the smell

too

 

and all the horror

that never leaves you

like a child that won’t let go

of your hand in a

busy mall

 

sticking close

over flame

 

kicking off the blanket

I am slick with

terror.