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PK Wakefield
Poems
Jul 2013
Untitled
muteness
this dyin' out which
the fay of sleeping trundles
is
lurid
it
stings deeply
very drab
and doesn't
its shoulders
jeweled
gleaming
most
its muscles
sore
andthe
sloping crease
of its hips eat
the timid easy fingers of dawn
Written by
PK Wakefield
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Brian O'blivion
,
RenΓ© MutumΓ©
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