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IT BORE repeating


I want you to know that it is only my lessons now that have a chance to lift themselves above the cackling redness found in Love's absence. (Forgive me for infecting your water.) I am sorry, I forgot you were waiting. (Forgive me for bombing your children.) I was too busy sleeping to notice. Might you forgive me for not seeing that my back had space enough for a pair of wings?

© 2015 Mark Richard Prime, I am.

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