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Country of One

She said nothing on that crystalline moring.

Echoes of sadness and rage radiated outward in myriad directions.

Her red-rimmed eyes avoided mine. Our affections had been diverging notions.

I whispered something, but she walked away. My words were trivial.

My heart, a numbed country of one, bombed and decorated in gnarled rubble, begged her to turn around.

If she did, my next words would be like planes dropped from the skies.



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