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Mar 2011
it rained without warning
the world outside
a gray, unhappy look.

continued to fall.
she, telling herself
not to lose her way
that night of confusion.

wind had began again.
whipping in eaves
above her head.

a man’s voice sounded
at her shoulders.

all at once,
alone with the world.
this man---
wildly against her.

her ruffles wet and wilted,
she turned to him


(words from Kerima Polotan’s β€œThe ******”)
Written by
Ambita Krkic
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