Thursday, November 4, 2010

BG

a spray of roses pierced the iron door,
inherent and finite;
the curly initials stained by the rain...
a life annulled, her soul congealed -
remnants of hair, teeth, bones
sealed in the cold stone closet...
while dust storms gather elsewhere... 

[mysterious nonentities at the Cimetière du Père Lachaise] 


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