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Dec 2019
he was asleep

in his own

she was awake

the snake
was a figment

something to blame
for his future

the tree was time
and its fruit

the secret
she already knew

but pretended
she didn’t

she was not a rib
but she left him

with less of himself
John Destalo
Written by
John Destalo  55/M/Harrisburg, PA
(55/M/Harrisburg, PA)   
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