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The Forgetting (Free verse) by Dovina

He stooped to smell a rose, the same he’d smelled all morning. Inner child not inner any more, he tasted everything new— delicious oblivion. Eternal pasteless now.

lmp 3-Jan-06/1:58 PM
i like the image, and the hint of living time in reverse (perhaps?). I am confounded however, by the last line; is "pasteless" a typo? or maybe this is a fanciful land where the collage of the child smelling a rose comes to life and "unpastes" himself...
quaint and lovely nonetheless, it stimulates conjecture.




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