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Feb 2016
Along the pavement, still wet from her tears
I glide mouth open collecting these tiny spheres
A window open, while locks of hair part revealing a face
Pale!, with all the signs of a saddening race

Out-of-control pace I turn back just in that space
Of slippery steps which quicken the race
In consoling her, a lovely face!, if only
A spiral blue staircase would appear at the curtain-base
Matthew Goff
Written by
Matthew Goff
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