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Ingrid Midd
Poems
Jun 2018
Spill
Sometimes the words come.
Cascading, tripping over each other
On the white of the page in red teacher pen.
Sadness, venom, despair.
Take a word and spill its guts.
Bleed it for answers and pour.
Written by
Ingrid Midd
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A Simillacrum
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