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Comments about Carly Haufe
What's On Your Tongue
Machines hop metal shavings scarring your perfect fingertips
grinding, burning, burrowing into your skin, you're hard as nails,
heart of molten iron, no tougher stuff than can lose and lose it all
and still have the salt to throw the dice again,
and your tears, when they do come for they come so rare and spare
like the rain in our July droughts to our rotten rivers,
make the grass stand tall after it's been beaten and come with lightning and
taste sweet like snow-
and you will always be that smell in your nose of warm and rusty metal sweating
and hot baked ...