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Wooden Spoons

10/17/2013

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morning
my eyes are
wooden spoons
that beat on the doors of sleep all night
wishing a dream would let me in
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Oh S2

10/10/2013

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& the blue numeral flowering in the neigh
palm of 3 am is also
& also not
a rose
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Oh S

10/2/2013

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midnight breaks
out in hives
noon in hexagrams
the noun lies in her unmade
bed with i & eye
& hums
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    Sophia Pandeya

     Tiny poems. Because you never know which grain of sand will grow a pearl within you

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