Megan Worthylake

Biography of Megan Worthylake

Megan Worthylake poet

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No Name

Maybe three days. I know of nothing but a stranger
who never happened or had ever happened
Boots, gray knees, different pair of hands
Blue-black space I scarcely dare to look
I barely keep track of the date
There are intervals of dry consciousness
With a nod at the world & a sluggish emptiness
To see what it was I was
It is between those dreams, the world is dissolving into

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