Between You and Me by Ericka Clay - HTML preview
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79. This Little Slice
The rough part
is when it’s beautifully
written, when poetry
is used as a weapon.
And my God
Is modeled
In my mind,
An apple poisonous
To the taste.
He is about me,
Not Him,
And my hand
Reaches out,
Mouths waiting
For their own
Bite of heaven
Only to receive
The one thing
That makes us
All alike, this little
Slice called death.