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I wish I was only as cruel as
the first time I noticed
I was cruel, waving my tiny
shadow over a pond to scare
the copper minnows.

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(This week's short poem)

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Forfeiting My Mystique by Kaveh Akbar

all piety leads to a single where dead lab rats go. in the weeds. I don't know him tickling my back. The algorithms for living fear is the cheapest room in a house, that we ought and spoil the séance. Am I bodies.

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