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Maybe Today

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I was born a year ahead,
A year is a mistake.
Laying on the ocean,
Could it hurt?
A gray feather fell and danced on my case.
Soft and light.
I’m not fretting,
I forgot.
I sunk into the waves
And let my body go.
Draining my ignorance,
Filling my tick.
Heavy with rain,
Left only a stain.
I drew with watercolors on the lake.
I was born a year ahead,
A year is a mistake.





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