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Oct 2015
cemeteries worn
delicately fall on chests

like grandmother's old necklaces

and inscriptions from headstones
draped in cold bronze

bought and sold, their epitaphs

like grandmother's old word

her lovely verbs

swathed in gold,

and ever were costly rhinestones weaved in

until every meaning to her lovely words were lost.
touka
Written by
touka  23/F/Wilmington, NC
(23/F/Wilmington, NC)   
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     Woody, r, ---, ---, PoetryJournal and 7 others
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