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Image for the poem In the Loop

In the Loop

Not feeling
the pulse
of another person
for ten years
can wear a hole
in your skin
like a wine bottle cork
stuck in the throat
as you choke
on the thought
that this
may have been
your last sip
and the entire dance
is over,
only the next morning
you wake up
and start the dream
all over again,
and every day
is a blank canvas
that steals your breath.

runningturtle87
Written by runningturtle87
Published
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