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[im_nobody]

This poem's in EG magazine:

My sister held a star within her fist,
And warm, wet summer evenings,
We took it out
To wash our youthful eyes in its glow
Underneath the fortress of our sheets.
I watched it so close
Sometimes
I can still feel the heat,
The sharp edges, the wistfulness
When I look up at the burning sky.

Comments

[dolcemiseria]

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