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May 2013
Stop to peer in,
black hole,
dank air rises.
Is that dark water below or words of babble?
Heard her before,
dusky voice from Pall Malls aplenty,
whisper names in unison with wind;
blowing up now, I hear her still.

I was here before, when she fell,
a falling without a splash, sound of nothing.
Heard her then…hear her now.

β€œI love you anyway,” echoes in my head.
69 words, no more, no less.
Travis Barefoot
Written by
Travis Barefoot
938
   Jami Samson
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