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Onoma
Poems
Mar 19
Inner Eye Contact
Windows rise to scatter dead skin--
an electric cool removes layers of
mustiness.
Pitting rooms against themselves,
held accountable for their confines.
As inner eye contact is maintained,
the respect winter taught--so far
afield that flowers happen.
Almost like Mary showing--hands on
her back.
Just as a sparrow lie leaf-like between
two pages of air, illustrating itself in
someone's gut.
Written by
Onoma
NYC
(NYC)
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86
Weeping willow
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