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Third Eye Candy
Poems
Oct 2012
Wyrm
no one dies in a dead heat. they just arrive uncontested.
a slapped cheek, if no one comes first
a slack thirst for comets and bedlam
and new germs.
you send radar to your wigwam and burn churches
you lose some.
trouble is
you love it when
the wyrm
turns.
Written by
Third Eye Candy
M/USA
(M/USA)
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Vijayalakshmi Harish
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