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Feb 2020
Laces of rain
sleep in the air
as our speech
erodes into slopes
of silence.
My phone
doesn't ring.
Your ghost
walks the wood
floors tonight.
I watch from
the frost light
of the fridge
as you vanish.
Nothing's left now
but to close the door,
sew the dark in
around me,
& listen to the
last movements
of the rain.
Evan Stephens
Written by
Evan Stephens  44/M/DC
(44/M/DC)   
38
     CarolineSD, Bogdan Dragos, --- and ---
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