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Jan 2014
I thought you a foreign king
as your body spoke
some awfully powerful
dead language

Now, you are far, far away
like the ocean
to be conquered
in a landlocked town

To be fair,
I once built a boat,
but desire no more,
to go out to sea.

They told me
to trust time,
so I courted the clock
waiting for the hour

Now,
what has been
between you & me,
was just incidental, ephemeral

From bruises to burgundy,
Amongst the letters and the lies,
I feel you shrink
How did I ever afford you so much space?
La Jongleuse
Written by
La Jongleuse  France
(France)   
567
   Gwen Whitmoore
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