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Amandajean Kinney
Poems
Jun 2010
stranger;strange-er
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
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