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touka
Poems
Oct 2021
wrinkle *TW*
I know I'll die in the interstice
in the space between your teeth
in that long, life-snuffing gap
between your breath and your next words
in that painful preterition
if
this
is where your scruple stops you
then omission is your sword
nothing more than a maneuver
to leave yourself a remnant
at each margin of the bed you ***** me in
Written by
touka
23/F/Wilmington, NC
(23/F/Wilmington, NC)
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