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Sunday, 20

by Melanie J Yarbrough

I am pulled away too
quickly.
Bea and I huddle on the couch
and the way her arm
around me is warm, my
head on her shoulder is dampened with
tears,
I stop breathing so the memory
will be silent and still and
permanent.

07/20/2008

Posted on 07/21/2008
Copyright © 2024 Melanie J Yarbrough

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Meghan Helmich on 07/21/08 at 03:34 PM

stop breathing to still the memory. i've done that before..and it never really works. *hugs*

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