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Not Today Death
Bruiser

Your cheek, the colour of winter clouds,
 1
I lay my hand against it.
 2
Zigzag lightning crack of an old shrapnel wound falls phosphorescent
 3
from your forehead to the corner of your mouth, which hangs slack,
 4
a twist of green bile hacked up from your gut's sea clings to your chin
 5
as readily as seaweed coughed up by the briny clings to a rock.
 6
You sleep a drugged sleep; dreamless? I know not. Surface or deep? I know not.
 7
Everybody's Talkin from Midnight Cowboy plays low,
 8
if you were awake and I told you,
 9
"you look like Ratso Rizzo on his last day,"
 10
you'd die laughing.
 11

17 May 18

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Comments:

excellent  pictorial references
 — rivergood

Thanks RG.
 — Bruiser

Bruiser what’s your bio and motivation for this
 — unknown

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