Poetry By
Yuxing Xia
Published on: 9/23/2013
Thread
I peek through a petrified warming screen of light rain To discover a loose thread, Hanging from the age-defiant closet door and Resting on sound-coated air Of bizarre familiarity Akin to a morning of wheat shreds Poorly heated by the trembling hands Of my grandma After a night of knitting Deformed creations of love Packed and stamped In a deserted postal office.
Published on: 9/20/2013
Lighter
I'll never win a staring contest with a boisterous propane lighter.
Published on: 9/18/2013
Receipt
I spelunked my ice-crusted backpack For that elusive fugitive of a receipt, The receipt for the purchase of me And the closest article to a birth certificate. Like the ephemeral life of an apoptotic snowflake, My chances of returning my life to The palpitating universe withered Like a coffee-crusted receipt in The remnants of a dust-worthy ash tray.
Published on: 9/16/2013
Falling
Falling snow lands on its feet and cuddles around my coat for warmth just like my dead cat.
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