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Apr 2016
4/3
A dry-lipped smile
Decline of the chin
to the chest;
birth of ice in your breast
Atop a stooped bone pillar
I command, I expire
breathe out;
crackling flames from your mouth

I will never hear silence again.
In motion, repose, alone
With the crest of my head to the floor
I will never be sure.
Aaron Travis Gibson Jr
Written by
Aaron Travis Gibson Jr  PA
(PA)   
267
 
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