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After Running

A needle in my eye

Injecting my sight

Evading the light

 

I was graded in solitary youth

Molded by a truth

 

My tongue saturated

With a souring tease

My words backwards

They always bleed.

 

With a finite wire

With a touch that is dire.

 

I was graded in solitary youth.

I was molded by a truth.

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Written by
keiko-larrieux
American
Published
Feb 10, 2010
Lines·Words
13·56
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