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touka
Poems
Sep 2015
i
burn cold;
her vitriol, a swarm;
overwhelming, the sting
of such ice --
december plume,
risen from chasms
the air, choked with fire;
the stench
of cerulean flame
her piercing smatter; ******, igneous, the shrieks
and the ring of such sound
settled in her ears.
Written by
touka
23/F/Wilmington, NC
(23/F/Wilmington, NC)
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