Val  Dering Rojas

V a l   D e r i n g   R o j a s

An Instance of Affliction

You find yourself contemplating once more

the medicine cupboard: 

axis of obsolete

streets, old razor's edge roads.

Look beyond your waxen face,

you have wood, wool.

Do not think: museum of rubble,

but stack of stone hearts;

one for each time

you ran with scissors.

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