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G
Poems
May 2018
meshes of the afternoon
i take the flower by the hand
she guides me slowly and gingerly
i feel lost in the folds of her dress
she swallows the key whole
i am drowned by the beauty
of the distress and destruction
in the womb of worldly possessions
and distractions.
when can we go home?
Written by
G
19/the stars
(19/the stars)
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