it
trickles
down
this icicle
hanging
like
a clear
spike
from the
guttered roof.
trickles
down
and leaks
its watery
blood
upon me.
but it doesn't
fall.
it stays
there, stays
put.
doesn't
make me duck
and dodge
to save
my life.
a good start
to another
day.
Monday, November 24, 2014
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