Her poems are like so many naked corpses piled into one mass grave
Buried there in an attempt to cover the stench of her life's work
Her jilted lovers and aborted children reach out from the other side
With dirt in their teeth and their placenta covered little hands and feet
...
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Wow, the venom spewing out of the page sweetheart! Wow again! (Would never write about such subjects myself, of course) . t x
Ouch! Hugs Anna xxx