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YOU, here.
July 27, 2010
Apples fall from orchard trees,
As smoke fills my lungs
And you burn, bright, behind my eyelids
You could smell these flowers from miles away; Feel this sun beat, hot, against your skin
Everywhere; anywhere.
I see you in every petal;
Every burning ray.
In the thick, choking smoke cloud above my head,
Is your face.
© Lindsey D., Marblehead, MA
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