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Renee Warth
Poems
Jul 2012
Empty nights.
Each night alone I become lost
I drown in a sea of blankets
and a small mattress that seems
far too big.
I toss and I turn
I flip the pillow over
I pull more blankets on
I push folded laundry off
However much I try
I cannot seem to replicated
how the bed feels filled with you.
Written by
Renee Warth
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