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Frances Raeburn
Poems
Nov 7
Butterflies
we flit around
like butterflies
feelings
like circles of smoke
disappear upon touch
emotions
like breath on a freezing morning
visible but unwelcome
we flit around
from table to table
words
like confetti at a wedding
abundant but never heard.
Written by
Frances Raeburn
F/London
(F/London)
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Evan Stephens
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