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a peachy poem
a misshapen ball molded by the hands of a
small, uncertain toddler.
a slab of melting cinnabar-dusk-red clay
texturing itself a smooth-roughness
of blunted sand-paper / faded sea-glass.
a fire & velvet whirlwind of
watercolors that’s never been blended.
an untouched sunset.
until the sun-spotted constellation appear
(a slip of the young-amateur’s hand)
dusting pale-yellow stars across a crimson-set sky.
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