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Aug 2020
Minutes, short puffs

hours fade away

and in the mist

I spell your name

you are fleeting

a ghost waltzing

through my hours

I grab at seconds

small beads slipping

between my fingers

I become my own hourglass

holding on to your shadow

and gliding back and forth

within nostalgia
Written by
Amanda Hawk  42/F/Seattle
(42/F/Seattle)   
186
   annh
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