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sandra wyllie
Poems
Mar 2019
Decanter
My insides color
my out,
through a window
of cut crystal.
It gives me
great pleasure
to enter
the lips
of another.
I was made
to be drained.
So is the glass.
But the glass
is a selfish sort.
I, at least
share my port.
Written by
sandra wyllie
56/F
(56/F)
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