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in secondary modern you had perfect skin

the way you looked
at the way i looked

it didn't matter
that i was liberally scattered with moles

you said it was sweet
and wondered if you could lick them

would they taste like Nesquik
you said you would like to

join the dots
and we might find constellations

as if I were splattered with chocolate milk
as if I were made of stars

Laura McKee


If you have any comments on this poem, Laura McKee would be pleased to hear from you.

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