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fifty-eight (the girl in this poem)

by nike, April 1, 2015

necklaceThe girl in this poem
does not love you
She’s just a girl, after all
one syllable, four letters
barely a phoneme, she’s just a
noun, common as a lettuce
or a paperclip.

The woman who wrote it
on the other hand
is a wreath of bones and blood wrapped
round a disobedient heart
(a heart as small as a baby’s fist) She just
loves you, an emotion as common as a paperclip
or a lettuce.

 

11 Comments


  • Love this one, Nike! :-)

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      • April 1, 2015

      Thank you! X

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    • April 2, 2015

    The girl in this poem loves the woman who wrote it

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      • April 2, 2015

      xxxx

  • Needed a tissue warning. :) Very well done Nike.

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      • April 3, 2015

      Thank you, Sean! I'm sorry if you were out of tissues. I find the edge of my sleeve handy in emergencies. :)

    • Bronwyn
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    • May 6, 2015

    Lovely!

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      • May 7, 2015

      Thank you :)

  • Beautiful (but what else would one expect?)!

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      • May 12, 2015

      Ugliness? I should try to write more dark and ugly things ????

      • Nah, you can't help writing all beautiful-like.

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