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I found myself
in the dead of night
when my stomach was an anvil
and my heart was wrung like a wet towel—
twisted and desperate

I found a little girl
who saw life in vibrant colors
and spoke in black and white

She dreamed of constellations
and contrived a story
for every part of the universe

The girl with boundless curiosity
and stubborn ambition
reached for my hand

She showed me her castle

And together we made lemonade

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About savannahlyn

I write to articulate what my tongue cannot
This entry was posted in poetry, spilled ink, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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