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eatmorewords
Poems
Apr 2017
nail
I wear crime scene tape to hold up my trousers and in this weather
my lips swelled the blood turned blue – or shades of –
a pale skin red when raw
ointment for the rash
balms for the bruised
– Iater my tongue tasted metallic
tasted of iron
like I was ******* on a nail –
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eatmorewords
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