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The Ministry of Words

Poets were at the root of it
and to the women who name things
it was all an enigma.
So stones were left unturned,
avenues were not explored.

Words piled in the streets
and boy babies no longer spoke.
The women retreated to their offices
and kissed each other and touched,
saying that love, of any kind,
would be a shield.

But all the poets faded
and the women who name things
were saddened.

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