16 October 2014


Because everyone has one.

You can’t tell by looking.
She makes lustrous forests from stones and wire.
He teaches French horn in the afternoons.
She draws cartoons.
He’s raising his daughter’s kids.
She cooks for her neighbour.
He slept in a shed last night.
She hasn’t used today, but she might.
A battery maintains his heart.
It’s months since she enjoyed a meal.
His knees aren’t real.
She lost her baby.
He lost his wife.
Her tattoo hides the tale of a knife.
You can’t tell by looking.

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