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fog III (02/01/2024)
a weighty fog
like tinned milk
sweetly opaque
hiding the feathers and tears
traces of a an empty place called
heaven.
these beads rest on hats
press down on weary brows and
weave between the fibres
of gloves
of family
such a slippery thing, this life.
like a rain you can't catch on your tongue
but the taste weaves between your
thoughtful mol...
Thursday 1st February 2024 5:49 pm
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