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 Jun 2017 unnamed
Sandoval
Broken
 Jun 2017 unnamed
Sandoval
I was not born a

poet.

I was broken into

one.


*Sandoval
 May 2017 unnamed
K G
Meraki
 May 2017 unnamed
K G
The basin drains her polluted blood as wine envelopes morose
Every minute is a memory, onset of her blanketed comatose
Vying in a fog of icons and myths, words always fail them
From every misread evil that is disposed of improperly
From every neighbor or friend eternally mute again
From every gilded pattern that leaves a cuff for the eyes
From every fetching barroom, where all such nadir lies
KG
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