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Memories of you...
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In my journal there are lots of words
Words that I never said...
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After mass, I snapped ends off
of green beans. She peeled...
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I
like the...
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Drowning in the content of each hour, day and...
Wishing for a signal or even just a peak...
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Familiar scent every morning
Eyes that really burning...
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To explore the possibilities of words
is not the poet’s due...
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I'm choking on dust;
the fine particles...
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Eyes, eyes, eyes,
I just see your eyes...
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They met in times
When both felt low...
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I watch you walk away and wonder
Is it my own selfish pride...
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Why
when we grow fangs...