Sunday, May 22, 2011

Stolen Truth


The truth was in the dirt of her fingernail
It mingled there.
Acknowledged only when she attempted
to edge it out with folded paper,
or when she bit at it
attempting to suppress it.
It was unwanted-
so she cut it out,
bit it out,
rid her cuticles of it.
But in the flake of the falling nail
stood the truth
waiting for someone to steal it.

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