Thomas Meurkens
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Body Shaking

Body shaking.
I regurgitate memories,
fragments of joy,
I want to hold close.
While an emptiness,
nowhere,
left and right,
spoon feeds me.
Tiny bits.
Familiar droplets.
Crawling ants,
their shells,
dried out.
Still dying to get in.
Dying,
by the barbs,
along my throat.

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