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POETRY

Paris Flowers

6/2/2020

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A soldier stands alone
on stage at the Paris Opera house
The war has ravaged his memory

Unknown now to being known
he yells into the crowd
-Does anybody know who I Am?

//

I was known to me
but only in the bed

What is it to be known outside the bed?
Held only in the lust that
murdered the first love
known to me

I was known to me
once Inloveness bowed to Friendship

//

I used to dance in wineskin shoes
through fields of Paris flowers
Submit to Love, oh dreamy one
Be carried to an altar

My wineskin shoes
once old, now new
Does anybody know who I am?
-I do

By Danna Knight
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