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Sep 2014
she says she cant feel anything
as she is cutting shapes of butterfly's into the paper thin
draws little rivers i cant swim
but she smiles and says thats fine
cause she likes me long as i don't talk too much
'specially bout her childhood mutt
she dragged that mutt every place
had really sad eyes
he's somewhere round here i'm sure
just shadow of his former selves
just like me

just like me
but she don't seem to mind
we sit in the regulation standard size sunlight window
and i watch her while she watches traffic crawl
the hospital grounds an expanse of grass
that someday we will someday go play upon
someday when her screaming doesn't hurt so much
when the nurses don't linger to catch

her childhood mutt is barking again, i can see it in her face
she breaks out the soap but it wont help
she trims out another butterfly
out of the paper thin
it just lay there echoing silently
like her tears
i try to kiss them away before visiting hours are over
but there are allways more shapes of butterfly's in the paper thin
drawing little rivers i cant swim
little rivers i can't swim
(about a girl i knew a lifetime ago)
mark john junor
Written by
mark john junor  59/M
(59/M)   
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