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Apr 2019
I had dreamed
that by now
I wouldn’t feel the chill
under my skin anymore.
I imagined by now
I would have
warmed it away.
How many days,
eyes closed
raised to the sun,
will it take?

I feel the restlessness
rustling
unfolding
unwinding
with every drop.

I cannot fly
with wet wings.
Written by
Brooklyn  23/F
(23/F)   
241
   MJL
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