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Apr 2014
Silently, we sit
in a circle, reading
our letters. And they

my classmates, my
temporary family, absorb words
I will never see, and
shake quietly, weeping. You

sent me a letter, too
and you tell me you love me,
underlined twice and adorned
with an exclamation point. You

tell me you love me, and
stand tall, seemingly
above me, not seeing
how I have grown long ago
out of your shadow. You

say you love me, and this
is a gunshot, but I
have put a silencer
in your rifle. In order to cry
you still have to care.

Zbylitowska GΓ³ra, Poland
Friday, March 21, 2014
11:30 AM

From my collection, Poems from Poland
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