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Image for the poem A.I.R.

A.I.R.

 
Artist in residence

A shadow etching Victorian patterns to trim out the unfurling balcony

Only a container

Spilling ink

Until there is no one left

To draw feelings from these profane creations

Without a beating heart

These puzzle pieces

Are just rorschach tarnish

Only decipherable

By someone truly

Tortured
Written by Dragonyear
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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