NaPoWriMo Day 9: Afterthought

This is the after
thought to eating a shoe,
grinding leather in the teeth,
I think that I could be full, once again.

This is piece
meal. Shattered through the tan
like a brown painted canvas
waiting, waiting.

I am hungry.
I will not wait.

I plant the leftovers in the floor
furrow the concrete
and she thinks:
“one day I will be wet again.”

In basement I consider
all the stairs that might
lead out. Only cellar
door will exit home.

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