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Grace
Poems
Jul 2023
scramble
gold and yellow yolk leaks
as the shells, brown fragments of armour
tumble into the clear lake
so it must be morning
though the sun sets as we confess resurfacing memories
that break in front of us
like eggs at breakfast
Written by
Grace
F/Voie Des Papillons
(F/Voie Des Papillons)
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Chips
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Edmund black
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Coleen Mzarriz
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The Sick Red Carnation
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Lori Jones McCaffery
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