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A Poem: Before and After 

i'd rather have you,

every groggy morning,

kiss my stomach

through (your) thin gray t-shirt i threw on

than hear the sound


go on and say i'm crazy.



when times have

tiptoed off

what do we have

but contour memories

toast crumb words

crudely reassembled.

all i gathered were sensations.

and will the skin forget?

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  • A poem by Aleda Bliss.


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