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Doors
The doors are windowed
in hope and disguises older
than memory
heavier
than regret
slamming shut
at the slip of a wrist.
Enduring.
Everything else
is set in stone.
This Time
At last
listen to my song
flown from wings
that have brought me
soaring here.
The sea
waves reflections
cast upon a waiting shore.
Caught in a whisper
one tiny shell
holds all memories of my tears.
My world,
locked in glass and stars,
is sifting through
you fingers.
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