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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.

Dovina 4-Jan-06/1:28 PM
Nor does mine. I was trying to portray the feeling of having forgotten all the connections that “paste” each new sensation to the known world. As he lost that ability, everything seems new and “unpasted.” But I agree that the last line may be over-the-top, and could be scratched.




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