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Deeper Stranger

I couldn't tell you when I wrote this. All I know is sometime before October 2008.

Deeper Stranger.

My heart is as deep as the Hudson River. Its fresh with unpredictable currents. Once a murky barren zone is now the object of a mid summers swim.

My mind is a twisted Christmas peppermint stick. Its stale and forgotten in your grandmothers garage, along with her keep sake collection items from the 1910s and 20's. Its dusty and out dated. Potential for preservation was never used. One day it will be fully deteriorated, or eaten by critters.

My hair is abstract, and under the influence of the sun and a Disney cartoon mermaid. Some times ill think to myself, or out loud; If my hair could talk, what would she say? If my hair had a job, shed probably be Jackson policks painter assistant or Brice Martins neighbor.

My eyes are a Tom and Jerry mouse door to my soul. After moments and years of chases never to be caught, never to catch, never ending, the game gets old and worn. The atlantic oceans colors fill my eyes. Don't be frightened when the storm comes.

My skin is a neglected patch of snow. At first it is new and fluffy. Then all around, slowly inching toward, are the other snowed areas becoming dirty and eventually slushy, and melted away. Soon it will be the only clean snowy oasis, then it will meet the same doom as all the other snowed on places.

© 2022 Francesca Caterisano

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