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Miss Nightingale’s broken birds
Miss Nightingale’s broken birds
Prayed late nights for her skirt to turn Naughty Nurse.
Her thighs stayed dry and businesslike above the hemline
Because her starched soldiers and their unstarched hearts
Never noticed that no one wears the same face naked.
Our lamps of lust glow somewhere covered from view.
Such a tight, strong poem!
Such a tight, strong poem! Outstanding and insightful! Great writing!