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Barton D Smock
Poems
Nov 2013
moon rock
he’s not even as special as his mother’s comb.
I am a piece of me.
I am the posterity hell avoids.
when possessed his muscles tighten.
not in english
he
smallens
.
I am the tiniest knot in the braid of suffering.
I am my brain.
she wore a swimsuit.
he kissed her leg.
his pain rattled
in the strangest
acorn.
Written by
Barton D Smock
48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)
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