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May 2011
Son of man,
you have eaten
too many seeds
and your hands are
crimson. Honeybush
cannot soak the salt
from your skin.

When I saw you lying
on the concrete,
I did not know
I had broken
you; shredded
talons, velvet
roots.
Written by
T Kwinter
520
     Lior Gavra and steel tulips
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