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Tiger Lily

2 June 2012

I am on a straight path between two cities. One where my trickling regrets fed a many-headed hydra, the other where my memory will run out. Along the path, I’m followed, surrounded, confronted by the parasitic thing that would draw the blood out slowly. It wants a creeping normalcy, a death by a thousand cuts, which would prolong its fabricated life.

But it has grown lethargic and careless, confident in its poison and regeneration. Polearm and shield are mine to clear a trail through the scaly coils.

When I reach the next city, the panorama of lighted windows will black out in welcome, ten thousand eyes closing in unison.

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