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22h
edges are better felt
beneath the skin
the way the wind

bruises into bone
like folds of water
through which the mind lurks

in naked silence
between gasps of ragged light
those threadbare atoms held

in a spider’s web
the lash of winter
in scarcity measured

where - crippled by time  
my body
split by the darkness
of you
bleeds blue
just a feeling, something cold and faceless
M Ignacio
Written by
M Ignacio  M
(M)   
17
   evangeline
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