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Superstitious Apparition

How many words of others fall through the teeth in that mouth?
The last breath of the weariest travelers long ago went south.

Throat dry cracked and bleeding,
Moments of doubt in the brain seeding.

Still on the tip of the tongue don't let it slip,
The beast's eye knows to shoot straight from the hip

Disappear and show the non-believers,
An ephemeral yet corporeal breath on the necks of the deceivers.

-Ed Tajchman

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