© Mankyboddle

Dead Centre
for Karla F.

Can you reject 
A smile 
Without the knowledge 
Of bitterness? 

The ephemeral smiles 
Under those material noses? 

I stare into the abyss 
Of your eyes 
Where all recognition ends: 

The centre is always without life, 
Because the centre 
is a fiction. 

We are the periphery 
To our fiction. 


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