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White Eyes of Ghosts (a black out poem)
With ritual on their
rude table they threw
everything to heat.
They sing softly of
their youth, the sound
echoing in frigid air.
Each returned to sad
silence holding the
white eyes of ghosts.
rude table they threw
everything to heat.
They sing softly of
their youth, the sound
echoing in frigid air.
Each returned to sad
silence holding the
white eyes of ghosts.
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