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Aug 2014
I knew a someone once
who walked into and out of my life at leisure
few words exchanged,
knowing glances made up our strange vocabulary

but lacking words,
our language was limited
no glance translated to goodbye.

not because goodbye wasn't important,
but because we both would rather do without
that certain finality, it wasn't how
we wished
to part ways

and in that emptiness where goodbye should have been,
was the goodbye that could have been
This definitely isn't finished. I listened to a poem today about goodbyes and realized I have a real problem with  them
Emma B
Written by
Emma B  In the clouds
(In the clouds)   
446
   Joseph Schneider
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