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Dec 2015
what unborn, soft objects
curved and lonely
wither with the yellow grass,
the foxgloves, passing in
copper flame

I am ill with the miscarriage
inside me

here, a seat will remain cold
for all time

there is no lantern to light
these ways we have passed
and continue to pass


the deepest shame
those that live, always struggle to live
Chelsea Chavez
Written by
Chelsea Chavez  Fairfield, CA
(Fairfield, CA)   
   Andrew Name and Halsea Callis
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