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Kao
Poems
Jul 2013
Pomegranate
NO.
Two ruby marks.
I can feel them bloated against my hand.
Like glue or blood.
Meat, metaphorical and incarnate.
Not that. It means nothing to me.
The milky light falls upon it as
I catch it from the corner of my own milky lense.
No.
The first and eternal struggle,
And still I march on and pray
It doesn't end.
Written by
Kao
London/Manchester
(London/Manchester)
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