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There is a gurgling anthem
in this box,
crumbling at the bend of this river.

Childhood memories lick
the pink of coals
Memories curl around papers
of the matriarch,the uncle and the cousins.

I press the ashes
against my homegrown belly
my insides
still full of
family dinner.

These limbs look
fresh and brown
knitted sweaters,scarves and sarees
I have removed them all.
But my voice
sounds like
old torn threads.

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The following comments are for "Nuclear Fission"
by difficulty

Something entrancing
There's something about this poem that I find utterly entrancing, and I'm not sure what it is. The mood maybe? I don't know. But, in any case, I keep coming bcak to it.

The only mis-step for me is "the pink of coals". wtf?

( Posted by: Viper9 [Member] On: November 11, 2006 )

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