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May 2014
She came to me with open hands
And in them held the air
She came to me with fancy free
And absent of a care
She saw in me a mirrors depth
Both shallow and entire
She looked at me like megawatts
And set my eyes on fire
She brought along an early spring
The buds cracked in the frost
She brought demands and interest
She never met the cost
She stood the test if permanence
And slapped the face of time
She summoned the extremities
The wicked and sublime
She dropped me like a punch line
She counted what she'd cast
I removed her like a splinter
Erased her like the past
Ben Jones
Written by
Ben Jones  Leeds, UK
(Leeds, UK)   
812
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