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  • Summer rain brings
    sorrowsweet memories.
    I cry for futility
    for impossibility.

    You are not free.

    I wonder if I really knew you
    an ideal wrapped in flesh and bone.

    Indeed tenderness
    should not be gambled.
    I let you into my loneliest places
    on the chance that would be enough.

    The finale left me reeling.

    And so I cry in summer rain.
    I loved you real or not.

    Photo by b1gw1ght on Flickr:
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