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I Only Want a TasteTo Jonathan Penton's previous piece     i see snowTo Jonathan Penton's next piece

I have a knife.
A bit of an objet díart I picked up at a state fair long ago.
I licked it twice, and tasted blood.
Itís sharp. Are you afraid of me?

I have a choice.
When all other options have left I can chase my trials away.
It does not feel like freedom, quite
Itís short. At least it is not apathy.