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DM00
Poems
Jul 2018
the first poem in a while
The smell of paint,
as my nails dry
and my fingers’ type
is coupled
with
a sun’s glance
and the insects quivering
in their leaves
There is
the dread
of knowing this
is all too soon,
going to end.
Written by
DM00
18/F
(18/F)
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Fawn
and
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