a bruised apple sits
in the place where a woman's head should be
the blankets have been torn from the bed
as if in preparation for a ceremony.
but no one ever comes into the room
could I bear the comfort of a solitude destroying creature?
I want a drink
I want a gash
I want to flick off this soul
of a young boy, trembling
scared of the snarling dog
Adam Tod Leverton
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© Copyright 2016 Adam Tod Leverton. All rights reserved.
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