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Poetry

03/02/2016

 

Autistic Vision

Cat hairs in the paint, you know what I mean

But why you don’t look at me I can’t explain

The doctors who tell me you’re here when you’re not

The way I see you is so many years, candles, clothes

You grow out the way you do in different directions

At odds with the paint you pick out the hairs to perfect

And I can’t

 

By Dayna Mazzuca