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Papercut
September 12, 2011
Thin red lines rising over the horizon
Bubbling out of long volcanic craters
Scarlet drops that leak and drown
The distant molecules around me
Sharp sparks of lightning
Too late to pull the paper away
From the naked, exposed veins
That hurry between my fingers
Rusty liquid slips down my hand
And defines its shape and ability
© Leidy E., Spartanburg, SC
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