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This is the Day


by Carl Santoro


Today was waiting for her,

not like a diamond

waiting to be discovered.

No, more like a

simple cup of hot, freshly brewed coffee,

with its limitless possibilities

to be transformed to one's

own fanciful taste.


Before she thought to lift an eyelid,

she became aware of

her cold saliva

dripping slowly over her bare

arm muscle, tickling her armpit

with a surprise rivulet

of the salty slime.


She wiped it away with her hand,

as she allowed her eyes

to be introduced to objects

throughout her bedroom

splashed with random sunbeams,

stoic, patiently waiting for her visual visits. 


Oh yes, she thought,

this is the day.

She looked over to the edge

of her mattress.

A pair of white cat paws

and two eyes were staring back at her,

as if to say, you know this is the day,

what are you waiting for?

Slowly she slid a leg

out from the sheets.

Her alarm clock began to buzz.

Right on time.


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