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CMD
Poems
Dec 2015
12(21)
dark i sit
with hands
carving a bowl
holding\chest
digging dark soil
mouth filling with thick spit
lips seeping
moist air of solstice
darkness chatters like compounding bone\shifts
beastlings drooling
tasting it. tensing root.
sipping in(to) darkness
exhaling bounty
#solstice
Written by
CMD
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