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It's just a matter of time before this mask crumbles and falls away past my chin wet with tears The miasma struggles to lift through the pieces like acrid smoke The baby cries and swats at my hand because he knows, rather he feels
0
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 8:11 PM UTC
Poem
It's just a matter of time before this mask crumbles and falls away past my chin wet with tears The miasma struggles to lift through the pieces like acrid smoke The baby cries and swats at my hand because he knows, rather he feels
kevin-hudson
Written by
46/M/Lynn, Ma.
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 8:11 PM UTC
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