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Thursday, July 26, 2012

Storm's Fade

Each breath notices
the weight lift.
Each cheek feels
the tear drift.
Gold flows from
the furrows shift.
Magma's burn cools
sealing the rift.

Back with better scope
the target is in aim.
The unleashed dog
finds itself tame.
We built our bridge
and walk over the shame.
We remember the syllables
of our names.

The house fell
from my reins released.
Our walkie-talkies
led our hearts to increase.
The nausea's rage
has finally ceased.
Our hands hold tight,
again at peace.

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