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mt
Poems
Feb 2020
Letting go
You were my bath,
On the cold Winter's day in my childhood.
Now as the water drains away,
I don't bathe lest
I'm slid to the vortex.
But risen I return
To dabble my hand in you,
In the spinning waters.
I think you feel my love,
And I yours,
As I walk,
And you swirl,
A dangerous game.
And I know you forbid me,
To approach your drain.
So let me enjoy my hand
in your current.
Written by
mt
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148
Bogdan Dragos
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