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Untitled III
September 24, 2012
A flawed freckle on my
arm. Our feet broke apart,
soft train lights at night
Our socks don’t match.
Dress like a man, undress
like a punk. I made you
right, made your heart
a full ear of corn.
I won’t give you any
roses. You whipped
out the potato peeler
Wrong utensil, I said
and you said, I don’t
care. You’re still
getting shucked.
© Mariam S., Schaumburg, IL
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