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A Compassionate Bully's Gaze

(i)

You've landed
on my sculptor lens, your brows
sketched out,
a chuckling chick's feathers
making my iris itch.

Your wink is a mouse's
bulged eyes,

no flames to burn my butt's plate.
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Friday, April 10, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: violence
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7/21/2021 8:26:34 PM # 1.0.0.663