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Rose
Poems
Feb 2016
Stroke
You make me feel sunburnt:
I redden at your gaze
your words make me sore
blistering at your touch.
But I always return;
the moth drawn to the light,
the festering cloud in July.
Perpetual sun spots
and dry lips,
a dizziness of the knees.
Now I know, why
they tell you to stay out of the sun.
Written by
Rose
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