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Natasha Teller
Poems
Mar 2015
soon, there will be blood
i burned hot this weekend:
one unblinking flame
in a toxic green sea.
thousands of mouths
tossing out the word "women"
as if it's the worst insult
their forked tongues can spit.
when i cut up their faces
with the rings on my fists
they'll learn "hit like a girl"
isn't an insult after all.
Written by
Natasha Teller
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