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Saturday, October 20, 2012

A Plea

promise me
that when your wings finally 
and span that mist-shrouded void
where you go won't be limited by what you can imagine
promise me
once your eyes are open 
muddy crystal cleared
that you won't linger too long
wont trail too far behind
promise me
that when you do stop to rest 
you can look behind
and see the path you left
promise me
that when I hold your hand
your grasping fingers will be weak
from holding onto lightning
for just a fleeting moment

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