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beautyshesmear
Poems
Jun 2015
The Beast
lays
gently between
my cage...
ribbed
in bone.
Combed with jaws
of
soft, sinful, slight
of hand
me your soul
survived the stoning
of ALL the words
they threw foolishly
thinking they were only
sticks....
and stones,
may
break my bones....
But,
IT
will always hear me.
Written by
beautyshesmear
between humanism and word
(between humanism and word)
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