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Mar 2014
2.
your time
isn't mine

slipping through my fingers
the way it slips through
the curve in the glass
on your dresser

illuminated
by a shadow
your tears
fall like diamonds
heavy
and sharp

enlightening
the spilling
night sky
with the way you count each star
including the sun
before it has risen
pluie d'été
Written by
pluie d'été
342
     --- and Miriam
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