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Breanne Johnson
Poems
Apr 2012
in-between hours
Twice she came and twice she went,
Each time with less a grasp of reality.
Arms spread wide,
Head thrown back,
Her dress whirrled silver as she spun.
Fast, like a clock.
Turning back years in minutes.
A spindle unwraveling threads of silk.
When she stopped she never stumbled,
Only swayed.
The wandered away,
In wistful delirium.
Written by
Breanne Johnson
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