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Nov 2011
Her little fingers,
were always dancing,
and when an eyelash fell,
she wished for him.
Her little fingers,
were always holding,
her heart together,
in broken pieces.
Her dark eyelashes,
were always blinking,
blinded by the light,
into which she could not see.
Her dark eyelashes,
were always falling,
and one by one,
they grew back new.
Time did pass,
like a slow dawning frost,
and her little fingers,
slowly grew rough.
Time did pass,
like a slow dawning frost,
and her dark eyelashes,
stopped falling,
one by one.
Roseanna H
Written by
Roseanna H
736
   Marisa Bordeaux
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