Papercut(s)

by Scoria Luciel   Jan 21, 2011


6:00 A.M. the alarm clock faded, shined, then became another black space in the room.
The smell, I distinguished perfectly.
My mother's scent.
Very soft and hidden.
I wasn't in my mothers home.
I was trapped in my own wonder, my own borrowed womb.
My own bewildered comfort.

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