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Moe
Poems
May 2020
A Room Of Summer
the wind is always cold
you look over the edge
drop slowly
your mouth chews out vowels and they resemble minutes
end-over-end crowds lost among your breaths
you dissolve and ask me to think of a place
with no points in the sky
#summer
#room
#crowds
#minutes
#sky
#mouth
Written by
Moe
M/earth
(M/earth)
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Imran Islam
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