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+++
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title = 'Sokolovs Cindering Nerves Poem'
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date = 2024-07-09T22:32:33-04:00
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draft = true
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tags = ['']
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+++
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Last night She came and left col ‘n stole cardboard bones
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held consecrate with devastating lust for non-existence of the mind
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only a self-employed prisoner poet could know having been wryed against the sky
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when he knew Why
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the house of hanged never seemed sane like digitally processed veins.
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