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Petra
Poems
Nov 2020
Treat
A small young man
hides his face in his palms.
You sit next to him on the sidewalk.
He falls into your lap crying,
right there in your fingers.
He died doing what he needed
in your embrace.
And there is nothing left
to say.
Written by
Petra
17/Genderqueer/California USA
(17/Genderqueer/California USA)
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