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ju
Poems
May 2021
~
He picks at the fray of her gaze
βtil she frowns. Sews shut her mouth
with too many questions.
We grow roots.
Sun shines hot through a tall window, and
she curls to me like vine.
We wind together, sway βtil her small hands
whisper at the nape of my neck -
Finished, done.
Written by
ju
F/England
(F/England)
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