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Evil lurks in a desk drawer.
Thoughts were poured on paper.
They rest in the drawer not seeking out eyes.
Emotions buried inside me
are now buried elsewhere.
They live their shameful life
far away from scrutiny.
Evil lurks at the bottom of a desk drawer.
I reach in and come out
with a rash and a fresh can of worms.
I take the wrong medicine.
I long to quite smoking
while dragging on a cigarette.
I eat some sugar and dream of an artist
who has the horse by it's neck.
Instead of jumping on it's back
she shakes it
until it is sedated.
Lydia Workman.
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Posted by lydiaworkman on 2008-03-03 12:54:09 | Rating: | Views: 46
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