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Alexia Vinciane
Poems
Sep 2014
Stranger
I don't remember the first day I saw you.
I know you were a pink little thing, though
squirming and squealing.
I can easily recall the last.
Calling it a fond memory would be far too much of an overstatment,
now.
I don't know if you want to become a stranger
or if I'm forcing you to.
But either way, its happening
Written by
Alexia Vinciane
Missouri
(Missouri)
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