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A Poet's

PlayGround

Air

4/27/2018

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Picture
We grasp
With helpless hands
Not realizing it can
Only be held by lungs

Fighting
You fear its release
Thinking you know
What happens at the end

The cessation they say
When breath becomes bare
The moment you no longer
Know moments

And discover
You just spent your life
Making love to what
You couldn't believe was
​Air
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    Poetry

    Because all that science just gets old after a while.

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