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Aug 2021
When you splintered
shards of your glass lodged in me
I can still feel their contours

The heart is a muscle
Every beat has accommodated these sharp edges
At first it hurt so much
I thought I would die

Perhaps I did
Perhaps there is no one at home
but my lodger
Written by
Ingrid Murphy  54/F/Bristol UK
(54/F/Bristol UK)   
208
   Bogdan Dragos
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