Storm's a Comin

Storm's a Comin

Friday, March 18, 2011

Dehydration

I’m feeling like death again
inside and out, a grimy
old rag that is rung
dry of all it has stored.
My ribs collapse into
themselves and feast
at the shriveled mass
of my stomach. Even 
bile has vacated the premises.
There is little left.
All will become withered
starved into dust.

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