11/18/13

Diminuative dinner

These days are so small
Like the drink of a single atom
But the string still rails me to
This common affiliation

To the sensations
Of hilts and screams
And running the into things
That come When I become too big
For a body burgeoning
To bustle over these pinpoint maps

Dot dot dot dot
And so many more drips to drown in
I suckle the last of a given road
I take the time to align some notes on my shelf
Like an even smaller snack

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