Tuesday, January 27, 2009

January 25, 2009

the pencil I'm thinking of
is not as yellow as the rest.
the bite marks along its torso
reveal its wood organs and
the chalky sleeve if its
crushed carbon spine.

the eraser is whole and unused,
a perfect cylinder of unapologetic pink.

the pencil I'm thinking of
doesn't allow mistakes, just hollow
toothed payment for every
sin misspelled.

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