1 post from April 2007
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You're just a ghost
to me now,
Mother.
I never knew your breast.
Too scared
were you
That I'd lap last drops
from your barren
lake bed?
That I'd coo you
a song as
they once did?
I'm a ghost,
and today I want
to drink
Wine of your breast
To numb the ghosts
before us
A legacy that never
loses the
way
Deafening
descent down
the Motherline.