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Buckle My Shoe
Buttons for my eyes, on a silhouette of my corpse. In the shadows of stones where old crones call home. "Buckle my shoe." Is it a silhouette, bones, or an apparition of a shadow? Am I looking out a window or from the grave? A stone's throw from the crematory where mom met Her Glory. Now I lay frozen with fear, connected to the raven's umbilical cord. "Buckle my shoe." Neither woman or man.
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