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ATL
Poems
Apr 2020
art kills things sometimes
these beasts have been wrangled
ages ago,
but the sneer of the hunter persists.
animals will be tracked and traced
till form becomes blankness
and their corpses return to the ground...
then the sky will laugh
in great gusts bellowing down;
because it has no word for forward.
Written by
ATL
23/M/MA
(23/M/MA)
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Fawn
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Debra in Silence
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