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I am the eye on your shelf I am the scratches of ink that rip through unbarred arenas- when sunken bones and unburied prints amass a clump of galloping words tracing measured tracks of battles forlorn Hence my history beckons and the leather straps like tires machinal; my life reduced to rubble burn-marks in a book that made you look without a care for where- to put it. another whisper in the wind which once carried its conquered careful balance Now sits still as a spineless paperweight propped up by the heap of dust in your periphery
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Dec 27, 2023
Dec 27, 2023 at 12:25 PM UTC
The Shelf
I am the eye on your shelf I am the scratches of ink that rip through unbarred arenas- when sunken bones and unburied prints amass a clump of galloping words tracing measured tracks of battles forlorn Hence my history beckons and the leather straps like tires machinal; my life reduced to rubble burn-marks in a book that made you look without a care for where- to put it. another whisper in the wind which once carried its conquered careful balance Now sits still as a spineless paperweight propped up by the heap of dust in your periphery
jacquelineskidmore
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Dec 27, 2023
Dec 27, 2023 at 12:25 PM UTC
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