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12 January 2012

Jonah


the wind tugs at memory
in indistinct murmurs
from the wilder country
full of forbidden places
and ancient curses
I learned what it feels like
to become a beast
my face is fluid now
it can take many forms
angels and demons
dance across my surfaces
twinkling like children
in orphanage rags 
I took to the streets
to deliver the bad news
but the streets were so wide 
they swallowed me whole


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