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On Respelling Poet

Saba Khaliq

 

I have written sweet poems

On moments I had yet to live

 

If the tall ancient lords of language

Ever spell poet again

Can’t they call it hope…

 

You

Would obviously, loudly avert

Your practical marble ebony eyes

There, away

While I scribble a poem

In my curled palm

On the singular moment we’ll smile

In each other’s ocean irises

 

 

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