I suspect you died a slow, painful death in
another life
presumably
poisoned in your prime
The
look was in your eyes when Marsha Mason
took
all those people down in that play
Methodical death
by rat poison
Your
soup seems tainted now
Your
milk a little sour
You
watch me in the kitchen
“Don’t
poison me” tripping over your tongue
as
you wait for the inevitable
“Not
to worry, Baby
I
have never been one to waste so much time”
Sandra
L. Hazley
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