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Jan 2019
all in all...

the eyes of

you.

a transmogrifying

dream-crest.

the burnt back of

my head, my murderous

gaze.

a sensed stare.

an overslept circle coming to.

press my jugular with the

edge of your latest poem,

and i'll recite it like my own.

so you can rest a word away from

silence~
Onoma
Written by
Onoma  NYC
(NYC)   
149
   Mike Adam
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