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Erica Winter
Poems
Sep 2013
Drift.
Each burning sip goes down...
and down
and down
settling and washing over my mind.
It creeps up.
Suddenly I could care less
About what was, is and could be.
And I drift
and drift
and drift
to sea to drown.
In emotion, in alcohol, in memory.
Written by
Erica Winter
Maryland
(Maryland)
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