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Anna Smetanenko
- To cross stich
- The imagination
- I'm reading Saint Veronica's journal
- To disappear in paint
- Her digital voice
- Is an extension
My tears are conductive
Thought like a mountain
My pencils are for orphans
My paintings are for homeless.
Every lightbulb looks the same
Drowning under pot of rain.
Arduino is like a leaf
Personify a monk with grief
As trauma causes to relate,
To Kosuth
It's Intermezzo I ornate.
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