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April 16, 2014

having not shallowly dreamt at all
the depths of absence among breaths, inside breaths, around breaths
stretching into the yawnopenpulling of your eye-lids
and the first blurrysee is the maw of a cookie jar

knowing not quite at this slow snap
condensed sweetly into that which is called before

quickly not catching an expiration date mark
the creamy-filling turned maggot
living, squirming, proving the continous line on your behalf
tells you just exactly when you woke

title: coma ; haley mcbride
April 2, 2014

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