Tina O'Rourke


Watching A Centipede Die

Trashing, it scrambled along the shiny surface of the metal sink.
Millions of legs running,
Antenna stretched searching for sanctuary.
Frozen, I watched it sink, one bit of its hinged body at a time.
Loosing, it drown in a swirl of liquid bubbles.
Dead.
The only problem it was still there and I hate bugs.

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