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Heather Butler
Poems
Aug 2012
well i don't know either
anger;
and all the dewbud roses fall silent in the sway grass breeze;
grasshopper and cricket fight over landing ... but what is that?
bleeding
the pen leaves puddles of unhappy gravity on your pages
and you are nothing without her love
anger;
and her skin sweats blood in the fading sunlight of after-hours.
Written by
Heather Butler
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