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Saturday, June 2, 2012

I Believe We Haven't Met

Similar to a mint in the mouth of a corpse,
the language of the dead can be a breath of fresh air,
for those who wish to inhale.
Though there are days where I eat labored fruit from my family tree,
(where the roots form forks in the road and the bark has a bite),
and I do not brush the skin of my teeth to savor the taste,
then inevitably wake up with mourning breath.

--Dr. Pen Name

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