Your skin like dawn
Mine like musk
One paints the beginning
of a certain end.
The other, the end of a
sure beginning.
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February Poem by Margaret Atwood Winter. Time to eat fat and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat, a black...
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The Language by Robert Creeley Locate Ilove you some-where inteeth and eyes, bite it buttake care not to hurt, you...
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