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Cyclamen Spark
Poems
Jan 2013
Snow Good
It stings
my skin,
Ice bees freezing exposed cells.
It snows
And goes on snowing
And I must keep on going.
I yearn
For woolly prayers and ease to tell my,
Well,
I mean...
I freeze
Alone ,frozen by unspoken pleas of caution.
Written by
Cyclamen Spark
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