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Feb 2017
imagine she is as thin as a doe
glassy eyes like a dead bird
it is not here that you will kiss her,
but here, tomorrow
what is a place but a time?
do not glower at me, my lord,
i have given my soul to you.
it is quiet, even when we make allowances for
pain.
imagine she is as thin as a doe
glassy eyes like a dead bird
skin not pallid, but pallor;
pink veins and lips full to taste your sinew
an embrace allusive of sublime ruptures
sallow eyes and face,
she growls at you, a low tremor
mira
Written by
mira  ouachita, arkansas
(ouachita, arkansas)   
439
   emma l, ---, g m b and ---
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