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Jul 2013
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
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
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