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ComposeHer May 5, 2016 Loverly, Poetry

Makeshift Tourniquet

Man-o-war tentacles
Net the way for a wary heart
In the throes of a long night

Traumatic birth
Renders me sleepless
In bloody sheets

Wounds gape on
And here this witch doctor
Has run out of salt.

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Posted in Loverly, Poetry and tagged numb, pain, poem, poetry, tourniquet, wound. Bookmark the permalink.

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  1. 1
    mukul chand's avatar
    mukul chand on May 5, 2016 at 10:28 pm
    Reply

    Great poetry

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    • 2
      ComposeHer's avatar
      composehers on May 6, 2016 at 10:52 am
      Reply

      Thank you!

      LikeLiked by 1 person

      • 3
        mukul chand's avatar
        mukul chand on May 6, 2016 at 10:59 am

        welcome

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