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Jun 2016
She was the fruit perched high up on the tree
And the lather of a thorn which cut deep
Now again I rise from a very ashen dream
With a hide much softer than before
In love I fall at the whim of likeness
And out of it I walk at the loss of identity
Sive Myeki
Written by
Sive Myeki  South Africa
(South Africa)   
184
   Alin
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