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thelauramargamay

Apt

I want to write of

Crows or doves,

Majestic or soft.

 

But it is gulls that cry

across my sky.

 

Fattened on scraps

Stout bills wailing

Right down to me.

 

Their unhinging jaws

Make me perfect prey. Pray.

I've seen the mob,

Preying on the weak. Praying.


God, that screeching

it's enough to make you

write of crows or doves.

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