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Nature – with impeccable force – blows the air around Her, Her breath dancing on a mirror like a ghost in the evening. i cannot see Her face – She never looks me in the eye, but still – the fog skews my sight and hides the blades of the grass and bark of the tree. i am struck by these wonders, like the bloom in early march; my grief leaves me as easy as sight did in this condition. now, in the morning, i can only offer my navigation to a certain extent. i still stumble, and the anger bubbles like the early stages of boiling. i rub my eyes hoping this dream will leave me soon, knowing that the only way to break the spell is to reach out and wipe the mirror with my hands
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
To The Fog
Nature – with impeccable force – blows the air around Her, Her breath dancing on a mirror like a ghost in the evening. i cannot see Her face – She never looks me in the eye, but still – the fog skews my sight and hides the blades of the grass and bark of the tree. i am struck by these wonders, like the bloom in early march; my grief leaves me as easy as sight did in this condition. now, in the morning, i can only offer my navigation to a certain extent. i still stumble, and the anger bubbles like the early stages of boiling. i rub my eyes hoping this dream will leave me soon, knowing that the only way to break the spell is to reach out and wipe the mirror with my hands
embraceanna
Written by
19/F/Connecticut, USA
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
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