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Counting Bruises
by anne cunningham
Sunday, March 30, 2003
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Goose eggs,
hatch free,
bleeding out,
painting me purple-green
in side effect
to the exact medicines
meant to save me.
Bruises rise in number,
erasing my fair skin.
How quick
the cure,
an over-riding flood,
if I took one pill,
or thrice too many,
bleeding out complete,
drowning from within.
The math would be easier then,
one big wound, no flesh.
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| Reviewed by Randall Barfield |
10/16/2006 |
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| sort of haunting this one is. one is afraid to ask after it. it's quite terse(is that the word?) which is good in my view cheers |
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| Reviewed by C. Gourlay |
6/4/2003 |
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| this is so well written, packs a powerful punch and gripped me where it hurts. great stuff. |
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| Reviewed by Bhuwan Thapaliya |
3/31/2003 |
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| powerful write...BHUWan |
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| Reviewed by Eroica Mendoza |
3/30/2003 |
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| ohhh anne.... this one hit me.... bruised my heart.... |
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| Reviewed by A PAX |
3/30/2003 |
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medicine heals....
and so does the mind....
all the best to you
A |
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| Reviewed by Aamie Burnley |
3/30/2003 |
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| ... a troublesome state of mind. poetry purges. |
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| Reviewed by jude forese |
3/30/2003 |
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| powerful mathematics... |
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| Reviewed by James David Compton (Reader) |
3/30/2003 |
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WOW...powerful piece.
So sad that many times, the treatment is worse than the ailment, and sometimes harder to watch.
-James |
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