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Runcible Spoon

heart logo Privacy Notice Devon Balwit

Why So Frightened

 

of the dark, you who came

from there, and who,

 

most insomniac nights, dream

of nothing more perfect.

 

Death will be perfectly smooth,

perfectly round, the perfect

 

shade to mesmerize. It will be the om

you couldn’t master

 

without laughter, your inner monkey

in the highest cleft

 

of the tree, full-bellied

and still.

 

You will curl into it as against the ribs

of your sleeping dog,

 

the sweet wheat smell a blessing,

lulled by the steady

 

pom pom of its hidden

heart.