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Onoma
Poems
Mar 2017
Undressed Wound
All having come from
an undressed wound,
whose fully enveloped
bloom knows the ****** tug
of the moon.
We her mad children, pulled
from the trauma unit of
creation...spend a lifetime
trying to stay with what's in
front of us.
Times's blackout trifecta...
whose lapsing present seems
to always beg: stay with me!
Written by
Onoma
NYC
(NYC)
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