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Created by
Sivagami Kuthalalingam
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Cards (10)
your playground voice catching on the
wind
The
dove
pulled freely
single
dove flew from the
pear tree
All my words
flattened
, rolled, turned into
felt
;
gelled blackthorns
of your hair
I
resisted
I
wanted
Sellotape
bandaged around my hand
crimped petals
, spasms of
paper red
Three days before Armistice
Sunday