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Jun 2010
i could feel time compressing.
"may i escort you mad'am?" he whispered.
the sound of voices, blue eyed clean ***** voices, fading.
silence.

eyes watching me. I, a startled deer.


where else but in his house on the hills and in the caves?
no hanging antlers or portraits of ancestors.

i'd often told,
"that would be nice" I said.
Written by
Amandajean Kinney
1.4k
 
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