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Wednesday, 15 January 2014

MISS YOU LIKE A MOLAR

You know when you lose a tooth?
And there’s this big huge icky yucky sticky hole
(Black with space, and bloody deep)
That makes you sort of sick
When you look at it
And see there’s a piece of you gone,
And you try to ignore,
But somehow your tongue
Keeps going there
Again and again and again;
Probing and prying
Into that space where
Something that was you
Used to be?
(It leaves a sort of disgusting taste
And a nauseating almost-pain
That you can’t help but crave?)
That’s basically how I feel about you.

Manuela Cardiga

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