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Let it go
Sunday, March 24, 2013
A Very Small Thought on Guilt.
Don't force me to watch the dying deer -
her legs trapped like tar.
Let her rest on the leaves,
bleating.
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A Very Small Thought on Guilt.
Meth Makes Your Teeth Fall Out
One Poem. Four Parts. (part three)
20/31: my hands don't smell like sex
19/31: It was Already Playing; a poem in 7 parts
18/31: why the cicada sings
17/31: on showing our baby the dead cat
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About Me
erica
gapped teeth
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