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It's no longer snowing, but dandelions float dead through the air,
landing on the wet soil soul I keep
while my skin is crunching deep.

I have no one to sing about.
Feel I have no one to sing about.
I want someone to sing about after you.
You don't deserve this.

Memories of faces flushed and close play on the wall.
I'm thinking of all I could say,
But the projector clicks and strains from jamming in my head-
It's driving me insane.

And though I tried to stop I lost my reason
With you and the changing season.

I can't remember your smell, still,
I bloodied my fingernails to dig you from my skin.

I have no one to sing about.
Feel I have no one to sing about.
I want someone to sing about after you.
You don't deserve this.
 Apr 2012 Loewen S Graves
Samuel
We need to talk
over a campfire

need to love under
a moon

to warm beside the glow
of shared dreams

burn on,
unscathed
That thought! Inside your head.
Give it a voice.
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