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Feb 2015
You're like a match at night.
The dusk settled.
It's navy blue out and I can see okay.
I see something on the other side of the little yard.
That must be pretty,
I think.
Then I strike my lighter.
Hold the flame between me and anything.
That pretty thing.
You drown out the world.
Your light. fed by the wind.
Trying to blow you out.
Frank Key
Written by
Frank Key  San Antonio
(San Antonio)   
294
 
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