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Rebirth Redux

Morgue File Clarita

Rebirth Redux

I have no feeling left
fingers to thumb flayed
like snakeskin left in the sun.

When the horizon took me
I sang of its dissolution
packing oranges in an old suitcase
bound in spit and steel.

When I return, I will bend my thumb
back to meet wrist,
feel its pulse
and move on
to sleep in the night air.

First published in Total Eclipse Poetry and Prose, Issue 1, June 2019

Posted for Poets United

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