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Andrew Layman
Poems
Aug 2020
Let me become Braille
Read me through
then bleed me too
a tempest of words awakens in me---
When the weather rages on
hold fast, seek to last
or find understanding to be incomplete.
When such an old soul, bound to fresh form
becomes left out in the rain
it's warped from the touch of the storm.
#wondering
#blind
#want
#touch
Written by
Andrew Layman
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