Poem 5

With Stories, We Make the Seemingly Broken Whole

Poem 5

Posted on October 3, 2015 by theRecoveryPoet

There was a Somali Indian man on my mouth. He tasted like smoke and man. I wanted it to be you. Gin and apple apple mint hookah. Soft lips, paw prints, and feminine hips.

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With Stories, We Make the Seemingly Broken Whole

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