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Sep 2012
Sitting opposite me
Scarce meters away
But what an army
Standing in the way

The tram curves
The mirror of a smirk
A flustered one I observe
And gone are all my irks

Here where all descend
I will be the next
We have just one instant
To find a pretext

I make my way home
Why nothing else, I exhale
Suddenly I turn to stone
As I hear you blurt out *hey
Nicole Bataclan
Written by
Nicole Bataclan  38/F/Berlin, Germany
(38/F/Berlin, Germany)   
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