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Words

Words, by Ošin's worries,
wound their sounds together
amidst my memories.
Mead was fluent that night.
Challenged to toast by poem,
trippingly my lips bled.


©
 James Arthur Cipra

 

Image: Logo of Social Smoke, Inc. © Iraniana Leone
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license.

(Color adaptation by Michaela Macha.)

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