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Mac Baker
Poems
Dec 2019
Phone
The room is empty but not vacant.
She is curled,
a density without
Weight
When the ring comes,
It is felt by
a thread that tried at
Something else
In the empty
that something else...
Tugs
Your call is a reminder
Of how we moved
But you canβt pull the weightless
Donβt you see?
When we moved
You moved something foreign.
B., I hope it's not so
as I think it is.
Written by
Mac Baker
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Bogdan Dragos
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