25 lines
802 B
Plaintext
25 lines
802 B
Plaintext
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school-mandated poetry: day 7 / triplet
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2018-01-12
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***
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it's been twenty-four hours since you fell into my house hard
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apparently my parents haven't noticed you so far
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your footsteps are softer than when I try to open this jar
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drooping dingy dark wings like a weeping willow tree, I see
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at a loss for words when morning breath brushes my cheek softly
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a ragged shirt hanging off a terse frame isn't what I need
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but the dirty shower doesn't work in the bathroom downstairs
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and my parents haven't asked about the onslaught of hairs
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did you spend all day downstairs in that bathroom, cooped up in there?
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a pile of ragged ebony feathers shed in the night
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illuminated on the floor by the fading morning light
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and I suddenly realized why I should never trust my sight
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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