© Mankyboddle

Dead Centre
for Karla F.


Can you reject 
A smile 
Without the knowledge 
Of bitterness? 


The ephemeral smiles 
Under those material noses? 


I stare into the abyss 
Of your eyes 
Where all recognition ends: 


The centre is always without life, 
Because the centre 
is a fiction. 


We are the periphery 
To our fiction. 

 

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