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Jan 2019
Yesterday  morning
had  lost  a  
woman  paper  vendor.




  I  wanted    to

        ask  a   sweeping
old  man.


  He  may  be

   her  husband.


     I  wanted  to  ask
the   buses  passing
through  the
vacuum  area.

I  felt  less  comfort.


I  wanted  to
  ask  the  her  
empty  desk.

It   may  be
her  mentor.
Written by
IncholPoem
82
   Jermon and Fawn
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