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Ann Beaver
Poems
Mar 2018
Untitled
If I could love
the limping
ugly
afraid
part of me
That I drag through the mud
and thorns
If I could let
the transparent
clawing
screaming
silhouette speak
Instead of kicking it
into the basement
If I could put
my deepest human essence
onto paper
for everyone to see
Then.
Then, I could be free.
Written by
Ann Beaver
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