If you had to pick,
what sense would you sacrifice?
Impossible choice.
See hear taste smell touch
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If you had to pick,
what sense would you sacrifice?
Impossible choice.
If you had to pick,
what sense would you sacrifice?
Impossible choice.
Could I love you if
we did not touch, if I did
not mark you as mine?
The house of my heart
is white, clean, pure. No windows,
doors. No visitors.
We bring it home, put
it on life support so we
can hang ornaments.
Sad orphans ripped from
the forest stretch out their limbs
pleading, ‘Take *me* home.”
TV’s “Fisherman
and His Wife” story for our
times. Unalloyed greed.
“She hurt my daughter,
so I wanted to hurt her.
Can’t you understand?“
On weigh-in day I’d
inhale helium if it
would make me lighter.
Why this ache, an itch
no hand can scratch, a splinter
no tweezer can pull?
A blowtorch melting
a block of ice from within,
pain made transparent.