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Apr 2014
how are you sitting so lonely
on the other end of town

the trees sway in the spring breeze
constellations blotted out by the tower lights

we met and walked apart
two left feet and nowhere to go
combing beaches, sand in our hair and hands

i am the dirt beneath your nails you can't get out
the lie, the pool of red in the corner of your eyes
from spending too many nights awake
a wildfire
Written by
a wildfire
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