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Ann Beaver
Poems
Jul 2014
Misunderstood Structure
Your red eyes
French fry fingers
Only look when they won't remember
Loose trip
Tight grip
Your heavy sighs
A million angel singers
Only listen when they can't hear
A little sharp
A little broken harp
Your compulsive lies
Your scar lingers
Only comforting the next day
Sit. Stay.
Come what may.
Written by
Ann Beaver
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