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Jul 2013
My dearest Ana, so small, so frail,
Your security reminds me I am strong.
The wind around your frame, a song.

My dearest Ana, so cold, so pale,
Your cheeks, sad caverns, are hollowed.
Your words of prayer and wisdom, followed.

My dearest Ana, so thin, so weak,
I long to feel your light caress.
I do not fear your constant presence, I obsess.

My dearest Ana, so somber, so bleak,
Too much weight I struggle to bear.
I cannot cry: my tears are all but air.

My dearest Ana, so bright, so pleased,
You beat the odds, and proved them wrong.
You kept us in the dark for this long.

My dearest Ana, so dead, so diseased,
You’re rid of sin. Your soul is chaste,
All because you gave up your gift of taste.
Rebecca Paul
Written by
Rebecca Paul  Pennsylvania
(Pennsylvania)   
757
   Tristan
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