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by
Eliot
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Pleased to Meet You
Poems
Dec 2014
Windshields
Windshields hide Him from me.
The touch of man; the sin is mine.
The accident left me buried at fifteen.
Death came from me then.
Again.
I thought death could not reach me
through these ***** windshields.
IT can though, the death that lives.
Written by
Pleased to Meet You
California
(California)
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Bloom
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EJ Aghassi
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Arcassin B
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