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Alex Marie
Poems
Aug 2013
Seasoned
I couldn't believe
how lucky I was.
even dreaming
of boyish hair in yellow eyes.
My mind knows what to make of it.
still I feel its like a winter,
coming up on banks of snow
and slowing.
Yet--I recognize the glimmer
of what's buried
that can grow again.
magnetized once more by
space and time.
Written by
Alex Marie
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Rosaline Moray
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