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Currajah

[a Walleah Press blog]

CHRISTIANA SZCZERBA

                 Itch

A tangle of

weeds, a

wad of coiled

and knotted

 

thoughts, raw

and unhealthy like

strands of

hair,

 

overbleached.

It must be so

apparent. Though

I hide them

 

as best I can.

Stuffing them into

clothes, to go

to work, or

 

out with friends.

They must see them.

Sprouting

out of sleeves.