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13
Poems
Aug 2013
Full moon sacrifice
day time disaster drifting
disdainfully into nights dark-lit
by only the protrusion of the sky
skinned till thin
in pieces at my feet, once, I mourned
and now again before mystique fails mystery
I grow tall and directed
shifted and perfected
incomplete
do they trim the *****
after doing your chin?
doing that to me is not a sin?
they're cutting and trimming the trees in our neighborhood.... *******...
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Natasha
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