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Barton D Smock
Poems
2d
CONSUMPTIONS
Mother with her paintbrush and me with my fever. There are no miracles. There are no miracles because of what miracle does to memory. When I fall on the ice, ache takes one of my hands as a shortcut. Never reach god.
Written by
Barton D Smock
48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)
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