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Jun 2014
With the ink from my passport
Bleeding like an arterial wound
Down my fingers and wrists,
I sat in that airplane terminal,
And let it stain my skin,
Drip to puddle on the floor.
I told my family
I was off "to seek a Great Perhaps."
In stark reality,
I was off to find you.
Sara Verdi
Written by
Sara Verdi  ohio
(ohio)   
589
 
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