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  • Writer: Soli Philander
    Soli Philander
  • Aug 30, 2021
  • 1 min read

It’s cold the weather and my skin The flesh under vein and vessel running asunder freezing bone Not from outside alone I’m old Unlike gold depreciated Incapacitated Relevance relegated, life confiscated, reward mitigated memory obliterated We’re sold The highest bidder come hither Plays nice-nice for best price Us confetti (but rice, mos) written off as loss SP

 
 
 

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