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February 20, 2022 / barton smock

each child orphans you differently

A bowl being taken from the paradise of my left hand. The second meal arriving at god's mouth. Any word learning to shorten the life of the poem. Bending

with newborns
a spoon.

One Comment

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  1. Jaya Avendel / Feb 20 2022 3:53 pm

    The complexity of these bold lines pulls me in and keeps me surrounded by meaning! <3

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