Trapped in Your Dark Corner
By johnqpublic
The numbness you purchased with your last ten dollars begins to fade and a tiny voice within you wants to scream but your larger voice whispers "hush, here is comfort" and you clutch a gilt-framed portrait of one you once loved he stares at you from a sepia garden your ashen fingertips trace filigree around the frame that holds him in another place & time & life he once caressed silky tendrils of your hair; and his full lips enchanted you with that secret little smile that now gazes from that garden In your dark corner there are no eyes to see your lips graze the dusty glass that protects the portrait there are no arms to feel the spasms of your body as you succumb to grief The picture slips from your trembling fingers & the crash of fractured glass is muffled by your numbness. Written January 16th, 2002 © on Jan 16 2002 07:08 AM PST 0 • 8
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"The numbness..."