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Eliot
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Poems
Feb 2015
Untitled 16
I never thought my arms were bad
Until my sleeves rode up and the boy next to me in English snorted and gagged like he'd just touched something slimy and chill-worthy and then continued to say "Jesus Christ your arms, what the ****??"
I don't think I've ever been so silent
Maybe tomorrow he'll gag a lot more
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