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Ann Beaver
Poems
Oct 2016
Banging
Your silence
On waves distant
You float away
Too much is never enough
Hand on skin
Nails on sandpaper
Walk on the shadows
Or with the shadows
All I could muster
Fire feels like ice
Like lace
Like net
Like bars and chains
Can you hear me?
Scream louder
Gun powder
Out with a bang
Written by
Ann Beaver
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