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just a game (we all lose)

by Rachelle Howe


life seems like a
black-nail-lacquered game
to me...

you speak of release
as if i'm a dog
(who ran away
years ago)

where is my house?
my collar, my chain?
(in your hands,
along with the keys..)

jingle.
the noise (abhorrent as the
beat, the pulse)
in my ears.

05/27/2002

Posted on 05/27/2002
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe

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