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Pieces

Writer's picture: Leanne VillegasLeanne Villegas

Notice me

when it's convenient.

Because when you're

not looking, I come to

Pieces. Crumble at the

surface and feel it fall

From my frame. My

details descend to the

ground the second you

forget my name and

the moles on my skin

disintegrate, turned to

dust. Departed.


My features exist

for you to study.

Stare at my flaws

in awe and then

decide when they’re

disgusting. You’re

done with them and

drop them, and they

fragment before they

can hit the floor.

 

You walk away

without question

and my core quakes.

Whatever is left,

burns and lifts

off of the top

and turns into

gas, the woman

evaporated.

I enter the

air and

pray to

become

a cloud.

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