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Shannon Kelly
Poems
Apr 2013
The spot
There is a spot
one my pink
carpet
where I sat as
I heard my sister
come home from school
for the first time
and where the wall
facing me is blank,
sunset peach with no recognition
of myself
and there is the door stop
that springs
and when I curl up in that spot,
it's fun to spring,
put my finger against it
and let some resistance out
it's the spot in my
mom's house
where I weep.
Written by
Shannon Kelly
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