Saturday, June 20, 2015

She Said She Hated Deer

This might be a bad sign.
It is only the beginning
feels like the end.
Stepping carefully grasses short
for hiding.  The glass ceiling
tall light with extra air.
How could it be
they know my sister
my 8th grade friend

At least the heart gets checked.
All systems go.
I said I hated wine but that's not true
I just don't let her drink me anymore.

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