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The Isotope Scan
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Oct. 20, 2002 ]
3:39 AM
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Colder than the loveless cold
Ophelia drowned in
Beneath the shiny mirror of a steel eye
I lie, pale and still,
An abstract figure.
A pain in my right arm
Pulses in accordance with
The tiny novas that flicker and die
On the black screen of space
Where I watch, whiling away the time,
New galaxies destroyed and created
With each blink of pain
That weaves in and out of consciousness
In heartless execution.
Written Sept 2001. Re-worked, September 2002.
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wax
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wane
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