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Sour Patched Kid
Poems
Feb 2015
Coffee
I spilled
my coffee
while it was hot.
I was
cold
and the contrast
was staggering.
It warmed
my
hands and not
my heart. My nerves
were jarred
sparse
they parted.
No one
knew my familiar brew.
No one ever told
me such
genius
came with such
loneliness.
Written by
Sour Patched Kid
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Maria N
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