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Sydney Ranson
Poems
Jul 2013
Forgetting Tennessee
For months after,
I tasted you in the flowered mug we took shots of Jim Beam out of—it went down like hot velvet.
I saw you in every sliver of my Grape Hyacinth eyes and constellations of freckles.
I’ve halved you into here and there—into miles of unwelcome blooms.
Written by
Sydney Ranson
Charleston, West Virginia
(Charleston, West Virginia)
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