My lover does not swallow swords
he swallows the everyday
blunt spoons, forks, knives
that accompany a mundane breakfast
or a not-so-spontaneous lunch
but yet he swallows it all including
everything he doesn't want
Our mothers always said
Clean your plates
And so we do. Knowing
that every bite
takes us closer
to becoming unreal.
1 comment:
thats a fine poem
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