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Nostril


by S.H. Gall





The damaged lining

of this awkward appellation

is just bewitching,

begging of the light

test prod — OW! and then

stern mastery:

Introducing

the cruelly hooked thumb

with ragged nail,

plunging up, ripping into

and down into the light

of a fuzzy lip,

tears coursing

at the sight of

my nose's tiny abortion.

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