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Elegant Lies, Inelegant Ties
What feral dogs bark at my door?
As I lick my wounds,
In de rigor discord,
Whose music do I play?
Or verses time has left to say,
What chattels at my core,
Deny me life I've lived before?
On my horizon I see tears,
Embark on my face to empty years,
With nowhere else to turn
I turn sideways
Whete I will spurn and then
Burn
Copyright ©
Priscilla Willis
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