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Heather OC: Week 18 of 208

Errors Tour


Long before Taylor Swift, we

Poets have written about bad

Break-ups. Claws dig


In to hearts, and refugees

Run into empty night. Wine,

A Stag’s Leap, like blood


Stains our teeth and drips

From somber lips, but our

Fingers are laced with poison


Ink. Glides across

Pages. Heals us, Psyche.

Shares our tunes in tomes.

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