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Fuck
- Zachary Brett Charles
- Dec 1, 2022
- 1 min read
Updated: Dec 31, 2022
there is a silhouetted figure
rough shape of an arched
doorway holding its buttery light
behind it I know
a poem is done
when I have said what
I wanted to say fuck
the silhouette for hoarding
all the damn light I lose
myself when I can’t see
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