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Unpolished Ink
Poems
Feb 2020
Not Writing A Poem
The words that slip
Wax
Dripping through your fingers
Lost in form
Melting
Snuffed away
The failing candle of the mind
Leaves only smoke
Bitter and drifting
Fleeting beauty
Hanging possibility
The lingering fragrance of what might have been
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Unpolished Ink
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Timothy
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Carlo C Gomez
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iixiixixvii
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