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The escape artist goes outdoors
Crayon

In all the rainbow shades he brought to me --
 1
Thunder. Magic. A closed door.
 2
Reassembling myself into broken
 3
scribbling about the storm,
 4
you ask me how I produce my Art.
 5
Tracing over death, I grasp
 6
colours that never escaped; you say
 7
it's dispair and indeed, it is.
 8

1 Apr 19


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(19 more poems by this author)



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