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Sep 2020
Yesterday you shot paragons of (...) out of the sky
like birds
for fear that they would salvage a home from our coarse touches and cool words
This sharp light tastes nothing of you
You were once the sentimental sort,
erecting chairs outside in the name of fresh air
Out in the open it would be too easy to tell us apart
We are butter and clay in the sun
Oh yes, this light tastes nothing like you
Stay true, and swallow the birds whole
Written by
andisashayi  F/South Africa
(F/South Africa)   
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