Tuesday 3/30/2010 12:30:00 AM

A series of circumstances. Pieces of broken glass in her throat. As the words bleed from her lips. In matter splintered. In Schrodinger's. Both alive and dead inside these lonely boxes.

A universe. A crease in the hairs on a god's lips. The rain in the street. Teasing tenative footsteps. The thunder in whispers. The clouds in screams.

Choices. In a series of blizzards. I watch the snow fall. I wonder. Does it know how heavy it is. The sky makes it small. Our eyes make it gigantic.

A circumstance. An atom. A universe. A hair. Touching her cheek. Certain that it was broken solely to perform this task.

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