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Tuesday, October 7

Cutting

Open slit
Down through the wrist
I watch the liquid fly.

Red as flames,
Burning twist,
The wood will finally die.

Charcoal grey,
Black as night,
My skin shall finally fail.

I'm dead,
Yet I remain;
Another slit, and I'm alive.

Cutting by K. Saitta © 2014, A Walk In Verse