by Amanda Blanchard
(North Carolina)

a reach for a memory
of the life before

I think I remember,
something is familiar

the air stays soft,
screaming scars remain

the suffer of the wizard's touch
with gnarled hands

taste bloody jewels
thrust deep into my skin

I'm left an oozing shell,
a fountain mind

I think I know
I must remember

his poison is killing me

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