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Aya and The Worms
By Lyndon German
I’m sorry for the dullness of the knife he cut you with.
I wanted to keep you, to force you inside the palm of my hand and raise you.
I wanted to save you. Instead, he cut you and pricked you to a line to fish.
I goaded him.
"Tell me where," I asked, "Where did you find them?"
With a crookedness, he says, "Beneath you, beneath us, there are many lives we are unaware of."
So I dig with my heels, swinging my legs wildly and damning the ground.
The mud covers my ankles, but I hear laughter from the docks. There he stands.
His face like a trout; mouth a jar, gasping for air. Suddenly, I’m filled with a redness.
I imagine the fish carving him up with hooks and wire and feel his chest popping
with fear, like in the little lives he’s kept secret for so long.
#Unreal #LyndonGerman #Poetry #AyaAndTheWorms #Sorry #Death #Destruction #Secrets
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