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Some Stories We Don’t Want to Tell
Fledglings leave the nest,
the nest is an egg, its
shell cracked open.
We tell our children stories
about the heat of the sun
& of melting wax.
They smile...
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My blood wants out
I feel a returning
and a graphite full stop
Pounding on my skin
a door balanced on a hinge
If I drag the pencil a little
it becomes a...
