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May 17
( for Junie )

We grin & grimace
drop candle wax onto our fingertips

as the storm
rattles our window pane

angry that we won’t let it in.

All night  it rages
toppling chimney pots with a crash

smashing slates
it strips from rooftops

as we safe
giggle & peel off

our waxen

hold them
(tiny whirlpools)  
in our palms

those whorls of self
unique to each.

I wearing my sister’s

she... wearing mine.
Donall Dempsey
Written by
Donall Dempsey  Guildford
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