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Draconian
October 18, 2010
The words slip from my lips, float to you but never grasped. Like the arrow that soars past, your always aware of it speeding presents but its always to fast to grasp. So you ignore the constant stream, arrow after arrow flying past but never given more than a second. I scream, your eyes glaze. I take the bow and let go. My arrow burry’s in your chest and for once you really look at me, finally with belief.
© Caroline C., Coronado, CA
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