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Poem Number 23203

Words
a tumble of squiggles from your lips/were that they dance into lines
Commentary:
These words
are ointment,
a sticky balm
to heal, to close up
the red and raw.
Self-applied
they stop the bleeding
preserve the life
in small jars.
And like blood spurting,
release comes
in the sharing with others
of potions and herbs
for healing, for closing,
for living...
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