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Cana
Poems
Feb 2023
We sits unwell
I donβt like this sit.
It sits in strange ways.
Left cheek tingles, right cheeks numb
foots gone drowsy, other ones fast asleep
The stand brings a stumble, a drunken lurch
My feet rouse quickly, but not my ***.
Written by
Cana
122/Ubiquitous
(122/Ubiquitous)
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122
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