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Stop playing on the iPad and try something new

A single speck of iridescence fills a bubble of space, 



A smooth 

Garnished surface like a spotlight 

On a dark stage. 


Paper rustles, itching to be free, through


The gaping 

Mouth of dark nothing, still 


Yawning as the day 



A sturdy paperweight of flesh slams upon the

White cream cardstock, 


Rolls of fat 

Filling in the 


Pale white knuckles peaking 

Through the layer 

Of blubber as the other 


A suffocating 

Fist, the way her mom always told her not to. 


From the tunnel emerges 

A tip as short and stubby as that of her 




new crayola box just last week. 


Now the night creatures blew cold gusts of breath from their grimy mouths sending the black fringed curtain to fly from her forehead 



Red eyes and puckered lips, 

  She carves 

Each stroke 

In increasing speed black horse 

Riding through the sandstorm 

From her side the rider reveals her final weapon in a flourishing 

Wave before stabbing the sharp prongs of 


The javelin 

Into the heart 

Of the beast 


Again and again again and again 


nothing but a white carcass and an angry pool of 



Billowing in the desert wind. 


So this is her idea of fun?

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The great dragon comes down from the sky

I miss the little room 

That sat between me and her because 


Now that it’s gone, I cannot remember 

How it ever existed. 


She’s here all the time now, my new permanent roommate.

She painted the walls black and blue with her bare hands.

And then she becomes a part of me.

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