![]() Paper CutA Poem by Cassidy MaskYou bring forth blood A tiny red bead That grows Rolls down my forefinger In a crimson river That catches Between finger And thumb In the fold of skin Then runs over The back Of my hand To my wrist Before running out Of blood. © 2008 Cassidy Mask |
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1 Review Added on August 26, 2008 Last Updated on August 26, 2008 Author![]() Cassidy MaskSingaporeAboutI'm at art college in Singapore. "...I never heard them laugh. They had, Instead, this tic of scratching quotes in air - like frightened mimes inside their box of style, that first class carriag.. more..Writing
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