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Feb 11
Sometimes I imagine standing beside a river
And slipping.
Iā€™m swallowed by the water
Dragged by the current to the edge of the cliff
Where the river dips
And I can see nothing beyond it but a mist
Like gates guarding the entrance to whatever lies beyond
Iā€™m just about to scream when the river
Covers my mouth with its cold hands
And escorts me through the gates
Written by
Eberhardt  F/Los Angeles
(F/Los Angeles)   
   Karen M
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