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Robert Carroll Spear
Poems
Mar 8
bag of hair, go asphalt.
i cling
neptune put
,
a bevel
wears and wears
your voice is opening
every
Venus waves
friend
my tin eared memory
into wool trap door,
stale still
it goes here
something new varnish
quite dark
a cherry from 1999
and you've decided
to whisper
my cuticle bed is pushed back
true beast
new beauty standard
#tragedy
#tragedy
Written by
Robert Carroll Spear
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