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Emotions are fleeting, but leave shadows in their wake.

They follow stalk-eyed, peering through

magnified lenses–watching as you undress.

the folds of clothing fall in crumpled heaps

and the voices slither from them,

drumming the ear like fingers on a table.

waiting patiently for a reaction.

It creeps across flesh, reaching into the depths

stretching–feeling its way into the creases,

provoking ill-favored sentiment.

They glide down the barrel

twisting a crook around the trigger–

pulling it repeatedly like threads from a hem.

The shadows split the stitching

guarding your heart

and reach into the cavity to retrieve

the soulful cries of

what was lost.

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