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Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1698458
nonet about my mom and me running away from, or to, Arizona
I was under my mama's arm when
we flew like thieves through desert night
Free. American. Women.
No man to hold us, down
the hot fried highway
We keep close in
hotels, her
hand, my
heart
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1698458-Phoenix