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Angie Aug 2013
On the side of the road
   dirt clouds hide the gravel
   slung by tires.
It's okay if it hurts.

Beneath the cold water
   mud conceals the trap
   seized in place.
It's okay to breathe.

Near the corner of the room
   cobwebs disguise the witness
   stifled by the unexpected.
It's okay to leave.

— The End —