End of a Year
Eric Hall
Give me a call when your marriage dissolves. Dial my phone when the family stalls.
Reach out for me when you've nothing at all.
I'll be reaching right back with razor-sharp claws. Some things you can't plan.
Now attached to your head. Brought along my drill bit.
A small hole placed in your skin: brains spill across your desk. Some things you can't plan.
Lips abutting your heels. Honestly honored to be here, in the presences of my fear: Woman carrying life shared.
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