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Boaz Priestly
Poems
Feb 2016
9: Misplaced bones
The cradle
his home
made from coat hangers
stray hairs from pink plastic brushes
and twigs and sticks
pressed up against his mother
sharing her warmth
One day though
he wakes up
mother gone
and no home left
down on the ground
instead of up in the trees
Little bird is so cold
and all alone
Written by
Boaz Priestly
27/Transgender Male
(27/Transgender Male)
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