1 Poetry

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Ein Soph
Ein Soph 27 Dec 2011 Tag: Christmas

A untying her bow

I used to think red was the color my eyes were meant to be, and green was a popular reason to breathe. That Hallmark owned poetry and love was a thing one couldn’t exchange. I thought bells were for the deer who reigned, and heaven...

Ein Soph
Ein Soph 09 Dec 2011 Tag: Christmas

A Ornamental

Half a little, red, shiny ball. Too fragile, too easily broken. The top, where the hook presses in, an old one, with a metal cap, a crack right under the tin, decorative trim, from which the hook hangs, with nothing to hold. The crown of a sleigh...

Ein Soph
Ein Soph 09 Dec 2011 Tag: Christmas

A The Last Christmas Tree

There are no Christmas trees anymore. Just decorated dead pines sticking their grey needles into me, Into that mocking stocking of a soul they left behind. And I itch. I itch and scratch and tear away my skin digging for that last gift the one present all I had to give. Just...

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