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brooke
Poems
Nov 2012
Plucked.
I'm only made of silk and sometimes I tear easily
It might be beautiful when I do, when I break
Elegantly, in private
Wake in the morning, half swept in fantasies
where my fingers have only touched those in dreams
the faces I could never kiss outside
I might even fall in love with you
no one taught me to read before I read.
(c) Brooke Otto
Written by
brooke
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Christos Rigakos
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