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Birds in My Hair, Stop CallingWhat's that..little birds caught in telephone wires
chirping scissors cut my conversation and leave the receiver hanging limp. It melts in my hand, drips into a cold black puddle of ink on the carpet
inside, the windows are made of a milk that sandies my throat
shuddering...must open the door to avoid suffocation, stepping
outside the droplets of fog solidify on stinging red cheeks.
a devoured city, encased inside the stomach of a ghost
It heaves, belches foghorns, sweaty clouds coughed from bronchital chimney throats
On this heavy day, humble abodes became chain smokers with cancered organs migrating blindly to the invisible supermarket in the ghost's liver.
What's that..distant chirps of birds so close they're caught in my hair like the telephone wire
I can hear you, friend, on the line trying to connect through my ears. You have reached
Brain, my call-center that's out-to-lunch for the day, will tell you to please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More