Friday 9/17/2010 12:51:00 AM

try the shovel. thick earth still upon it. her pillow betrays. the delicate of her words. the effort in her silence.

all her fairy tales are told. all her villains obvious. the stone on her clock. stops the hands from moving. the boulder in her fist. is the only part of her that knows the difference. between now and if.

the hill slopes to meet her. the calm resistance easily seen through. the pissing dogs always comes back. to find their urine. i can't smell it anymore. but the earth seldom forgets. the lies we commit to it.

she tries on her face. the mirror more than willing. to indulge her mania. she shouts at the wolf. as it climbs into her grandmother's bed. I am ready to be eaten.

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