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Sep 2014
she was like walking
up to the edge of a cliff
and letting your toes dangle
taste freedom; giving them
a chance to plume, or learn
they were always every-only human, she
was a dream on a picket fence
straddling, struggling to name
itself as either flying or
the other thing.
Niles Heron
Written by
Niles Heron  Detroit, MI
(Detroit, MI)   
377
 
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