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    dots Submission Name: KPKPdots

    Author: Ettenna Izus
    Elite Ratio:    5.38 - 11/9/14
    Words: 143
    Class/Type: Poetry/Death
    Total Views: 700
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 879


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    She used to knit beautiful things as she leaned over his bed
    Like the angels she dreams about, the saints she prays to,
    The clink-clinking of the bamboo needles like the ping-pinging
    of her jittery hands on prayer beads, the ones my father bought at the Vatican
    and cradled home like someone else’s child.
    She cradled him like her own, as he shriveled back and reached out
    With arms bruised and scarred from steroids and bedridden weakness.
    I can see the house now that he’s gone, all echoes and tones of peach
    Piles of homemade pillows fighting the ricocheting repetition of her voice
    That forces him out, replacing the soft slow drone of his machine
    With the steely sounds of the television, the creak of old furniture and floorboards
    The way thoughts only amplify the ringing in her ears.

    Submitted on 2008-03-11 23:01:53     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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