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it was my haunted eyes
and pale skin
"Little white bastard"
I had no name for the three
months my mother cared for
the near fatal crash in the
station wagon at the crossing
the broken lamp in the operating

they gave me babies to hold
and objects of the dead when
I returned and I listened patient
feeling the touch of that shadow
across my soul

I talked to snakes on nights
filled with summerheat lightening
and walked barefoot
I was a ghost amongst the living
with no history
smoke in the mirrors
with a strange reflection

now I have fallen in love
with a mermaid
and I cannot swim
this beauty of the curse
has spared me the
greater touch of life
and let me live
lives in my realms
finding the lost
and salvaging the damned

Editing stage: 


I could alter that and drop it
as it is that Danish mans story now is it not??
and it would not alter the poem a great deal
at all...Will greatly consider this
Beau and for the record
this is my life!
thats what is my past.
Thanks for the comment
always enjoy your crits
and poems

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