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Racing
January 18, 2016
The air is thick with water
There is a bonfire on my neck, the sun is relentless
My sweat swells into beads- they're flung off my hair
The cracked, lifeless earth crunches under my feet
I will be the first one she sees
The thought of her is my final sprint
She turns the snare drum inside my chest into a sledgehammer
And victory suits me
Like her arms around mine
© Alyssa B., Forest Hills, NY
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