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Updated on July 28, 2009

The Witch's Cat

Complex cat

Fat on the belly

Back to your face

Purring a curse

Precisely in your direction

Sounds she makes and does not understand

She must despise you


Does she fight a genetic desire to slice your throat?


Her back

The kindest gift that she can give you.

The Seamstress

We have not felt time

As time ran her fingers upon us

Pulled tight the stray threads of open corsets

Combed our hair.

We are tidier now



Our seamstress; Time

Stroked the bumps from our surface

A silky ribbon scar

Across the back

Is no memorial to a once sudden strike

Forgotten now

The natural tale it tells in truth

Not of a shock to the flesh, but the recovery sewn slow and long

The constant unending embroidering song

Of a fine seamstress.

The Follower


Watching like a child

Follows her

Through the nettles that sting

Follows her

Almost like she holds his hand

Collecting dock leaves

For tomorrow.


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