Growing Old
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November 4, 2011, 4:12 am
Filed under: Poetry
I killed a child today.
He smiled at me in the street,
so I smiled back with a grin
that split the corners of my
mouth, I was, unhinged.
With the white of malice
pouring into my eyes, from
my tongue there grew a
sharpened spine;
incisors gleam, lips
unfold, saliva swell, and
I swallowed him.
Engorged then, I pondered
what authored this
pedophilic appetite. For,
while he festered here
inside and the acidity
of my thoughts assailed
mortality, I grew young.
Perhaps my conscience is
the thing that feeds.
I killed a child today,
and if anything I felt
sagacious, as I firmly
cracked an aching jaw
back into place.
Filed under: Poetry
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