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 May 2016 Bonswan
S O P H I E
why do you refuse to see
what's missing in you
is clearly me
poplar branches
embrace steel-blue clouds
so they would not
    driven by thunder and lightening
tear off their tender arms

the trees bend daringly
and you anticipate
to hear the hissing sound
of splintering wood

it does not happen
their postures grow ***** again
clouds disentangle themselves
and continue their wild chase
for other arms

survived once more
stormclouds trees
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