It Tastes Like Metal

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it's a hole.

Not a crater
seen on the moon

it's a hole.

Clean.  All the way through.
With borders
made of Raw Meat.

Drooping off
of
deeper things

Hole-sized things
Crater-sized things

Bone.

Hanging.

The wind blows through it-
a wildfire of a windchime

Hollow. Drafty.

Death is like that.

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