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Cutting Down Trees In Autumn
In Autumn chain edges destroy the trees' only air
She, while in their bark's raw breath infuse,
As if leaves underdone weren't truly everywhere
On Autumn's corset; within, her body's womb
A stolen breath
Gripping her corset
A leaf's first memory lasts first
The oak's years cut from giving her birth
She left in its ground spaces worth
falling for
Copyright ©
Paige Hind
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