Thursday, October 2, 2008


Thin lines in her face like
Granite engravings,
Leaf edged, splintering
Out from her eyes and mouth.

Cheeks like cold leather
Saw up and down on used teeth as
She speaks and laughs and
At young men.

I take her to her room,
Push blankets against the cold
While she tells me stories
About me.

Mali finished and smiled at Parker who's eyes were wide and bright.

"When is this thing?" She asked Joe and he looked at his watch.

"An hour or so. I think you should probably write that one down, Mali, while Gordon is thinking about his."

"Me?" Gordon asked, "You must be crazy, mate. Story telling is one thing, poetry and the like is another."

"We all have to do it," Joe told him, "We need as much help as we can get toward that money."

Mali handed Gordon a napkin and smiled at his sour look. God help all these people for what Gordon will give them tonight, she mused.

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