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Aug 2014
Tonight
I feel convex,
breathing wilted air
into deflating lungs.
Easing into oneself
is kinder on the fingernails
than hugging empt.
Wallflowers bloom
into streetlamps;
peripheries
maintain order.
Bowling ball bumper lanes
are immortal.
Chloe K
Written by
Chloe K
1.6k
     Lior Gavra and AJ
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