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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in The Art of Silence

Tiger Lily

my son
His voice is breaking
my heart everytime
he speaks i hear
half-a-man

I pretend not to notice
but I hear me there
in him escaping his throat

I am dying so
quickly as he grows

i did not know such a beautiful
orange flower would bloom
where I planted my seeds.
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