There are galaxies
of pain in my throat. I drink
it from the palms of
men, so many of them. Spill
stardust from the lips of heart.
[ day eleven. write a tanka. ]
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There are galaxies
of pain in my throat. I drink
it from the palms of
men, so many of them. Spill
stardust from the lips of heart.
[ day eleven. write a tanka. ]
