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Evan Stephens
Poems
Mar 2019
Sketch: Voices
How surreal -
the wind
rustled itself
into my hand
as I spoke
to the girl
across the sea.
She could
hear it
as it purred
in the cup
of my palm.
It followed
me for blocks,
voweled
& agitated.
But nothing
could tear
my ear
from the girl
and her laugh.
Written by
Evan Stephens
44/M/DC
(44/M/DC)
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Evan Stephens
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Perry
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Madison Greene
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