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Evan Stephens
Poems
Oct 2019
Exit Song
Their eyes slash
like small fish.
I curl away,
ribbon against
the scissor arm.
Forget it, you won't
get blood from a stone.
**** therapists
press their steam.
Tongues hold, even as
words break away.
Just wait them out, wait
them out, wait them out...
Written by
Evan Stephens
44/M/DC
(44/M/DC)
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