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mike
Poems
Apr 2017
Mr.Seamstress's mister
Knitting words into my skin
Sometimes it binds my fingers to them.
The eyes and tongue are one.
My fingers are bound to them.
Lost in a poem
called a cave.
Wearing a suit of skin too dimm
To taste or see or find the hemm.
Words are now
If the meanings then
I'll figure it out at the end
If I can't I'll just pretend.
Written by
mike
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Cné
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kim
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Traveler
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