Sandra Irwin
me without you
the microphone groaning
long after the speaker
abandoned the podium
the one thing
on the discarded grocery list
not crossed off
the adapter left curled
exhaling vampire electricity
yearning after
its disconnected device
the collateral damage civilian
massaging what’s left of her thigh
trying to uncross the crossed toes
at the end of her amputated leg
So few words, yet it spoke volumes of your heart
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