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(unfinished)

by Rachelle Howe

the time was simple, then.
my fingers were stained, and
marred by
the mediums i so chose
for that day
whether charcoal or pencil, i
sat and lingered,
in that chair, the one
you always would look for me in.
the bell would ring, and
my attention would be caught.
a smile formed, and for that instant,
that one-second, i was content
just to be
suspended in your world.

04/17/2003

Posted on 04/17/2003
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe

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