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it's all i have to bring today
this, and this stolen line
like a crutch propping me up.
this and his poem- the one about
his dead grandmother and the icy
cold floor, the one he whispered
to me in the classroom like a bud
unfurling. be sure you hear us,
however, plagiarised the form-
to be seen- we need- to be shielded
if we are to grow. from the storm.