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Onoma
Poems
Aug 2016
God-years
Butterflies bang away at
my stomach...leaving all
kinds of color in its
vice grip.
Of my tales...you were
tallest--you poured me
out and moved in.
Without question you
used god-years laden
heavy with the most
curious wisdom.
Written by
Onoma
NYC
(NYC)
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Luz
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,
Weeping willow
,
Micahel De Tomasso
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