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Jan 2011
The grass is wet with warmth
and there is a bead on the blade.
Sulking in radiant youth;
frightening away.
apart from me; always drifting.
I only knew you from the kitchen window.
We were.
Then faded away,
like color on the screen.
Ills too familiar,
like I'd plucked them
from a dream.
Topher Green
Written by
Topher Green
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