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  • charlie linnell

pending poetry #3

Bending, twisting, turning.

Hands are burning.

Sweat is running.

No matter how much I try, I can’t get in.

A sealed heart.

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Last day of fall season. She’ll never get in line. The glass ceiling breaks. All shards in our hair. First time I fall this hard.

good morning, so i commute a lot these days and sometimes i get bored. i've read more about poetry, it's still partly a mystery and partly clear to me. you can say i'm a beginner. so in order to keep

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