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Jun 2014
The days you're gone I think about gravity, about tectonic plates,
about fog so thick you can't see your own hands even when you're holding them right in front of your eyes.
I think about you, not just unable but also unwilling to consume me whole.
I think about my mother, cigarette smoke and lonely days, cuddles with children too big to still be in bed with her.
I think about deserted islands, car crashes and how sometimes life crashes down around you like the remnants of a 747.
I think about echoes, about shaking hands and trembling voices
and I think about her, singing daughter's still until the ocean swallowed her whole.
b g
Written by
b g  holland
(holland)   
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