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The Pain

Like the human brain, which organizes
The swirls and shades of the bathroom tiles
Into faces, faces
With expressions
Of exhaustion, of disdain. The
Virgin Mary in the toast of course
But also the penance in the pain, and the way
My mother invented
Plums and tissue paper, while
My father invented the type of
Sudden kindness
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Thursday, April 9, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: pain
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COMMENTS
Kelly Kurt 09 April 2015
Wonderful poem, Laura. Thank you for sharing
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