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THE POISONER'S POISON

Sleep has led me one step to the left

of lead.

A periodic transition to thallium:

softer certainly,

like freezer bread thawing.


But there’s still no stretch inside this

grey,

tasteless,

odourless shape.


Though they say sometimes

we live in secrets -

that maybe under the double duvet,

your legs glow with a blueish light

that flashes urgency

before settling for eternity

into a freezer’s empty memory:

its power chord cut.


Whatever.


Tomorrow I’ll wake to quicksilver thoughts.

Tomorrow I’ll wake up.



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