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August
Poems
Sep 11
medusa’s child
My soul lay bare before you
in ****** contrapposto,
as if you carved me that way.
you turn the air to music,
and everything to art.
and even though it’s beautiful,
you remade my heart to marble.
sculptures are pretty but so unalive
Written by
August
27/M
(27/M)
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silvervi
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Ben Noah Suresh
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Pradip Chattopadhyay
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