FULLY FORMED
It was just an idea really,
a fully formed idea in my head
corners, edges and planes,
smooth sensual curves,
warmish to the touch, responsive
to emotions like a mood ring
or a dog.
You could have put it in a box
at a party, asked party-goers to
put their hands inside.
What do you think it is?
Something artificial? Something
shaped, molded, fits so nicely
in my palm –
like a lump in my throat,
in my chest, a hard mass
down in my abdomen that could
be something dreadful
or just a momentary cramp,
but probably not, assuredly not
too terribly malignant.
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