2.27.2005

Circuit

And she sways to the beat, the one she knew had again assumed control, like mangrove trees in the heat, like Toth laughing at cancer, like thunder clapping its noisy paws at the moon, like rain drops against the window, slowly, slowly but to dissipate, like a purple mark on a fragile arm, like a bitter word flying through the mouth of a careless man.

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