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Oct 2011
i had asked the thing
if i would be forgiven.
i had to shake it out
of her. she told me to
concentrate and ask
again.

i wondered if we were
really apart and if i had
pushed you over there.

i decided not to push
my luck in asking
that.

i imagine things you
will never say to me,
but i prefer to think
that you already have.

it is something warm
on days like this in
october, when the sun
waits until noon to grant
everyone else its eye
but your house and your
heart are cold
as ice.

that ******* red
jacket you let me
wear.

i told her i wished that
i could give you something
in return.

i wish i could grab you up
and bring you into
some light.
Written by
Scott Swanger
387
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