the globe

it sat there harboring dust and
a long abandoned spiderweb tucked
between Southern Europe and the cradle
the hues of blues and greens and reds
turned pastel and sunbleached
forgotten like beached corals

i run my fingertips on its plastic mountains and
its accidental valleys made by misuse
evidence of a god whose omnipotence
is channeled through a toddler’s hands

the countries were stitched together
in threads of a navy blue, perhaps
recycled from name-brand jeans tagged
“made in Thailand”

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Published by

c.v. grace

here lies my veins, tangled and suffocating.

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