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Exit Wound
ten years,
a minute after,
and a scar is
how i miss you.
the bullet open’d
me up and died with you.
now, the wound and i live.
i hear shots leave ugly marks,
a cicatrix
of repeat’d death
but this
deep hole is a dimple
a simple note, a simper
of metal,
of blood, of flesh.
Əĺļə
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