Dreaming of a different time.

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I peel off my clothes one-by-one and place them on the floor. The cold hard tile is much the same as me in your checkered mind.I push back the curtain and place my back against the wall, as you had done many times before but, instead of me being brought into your arms. I slide down the wall. The wall that is the same as the tile and the same as I.

The shower and my tears mix together, unable to differentiate which-is-which they are seamlessly pouring down.You would have pushed my hair from my face and said all this because of a dream?

But, that felt like a million years ago. When dreams were just dreams & thoughts were just thoughts but now that has all changed.

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Page Sixteen 

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Page Sixteen 

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