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Oct 2014
I wipe the stardust from my eyes
Oh how it itches and burns
We take turns
Because that is only fair
Good enough to ****
But not good enough to care
People stare at what I've done
He takes that on
Their judgements and I are one
I've gotten used to hauling it around
I'd share it, but it's too profound
Sounds like winter
Smells like him.
****. I can't write ****. ****. Ugh.
Ann Beaver
Written by
Ann Beaver
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