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Feeling The Coming Of Something Still Far But Sweeter
i do not wish
that you will consider my arms
as your prison cell
i do not have those arms now
i have fingers spreading like
wings
and i do not wish to hold you
with the sharpness of
my claws
i do not know what it tight anymore
everything i have
are loose
what i have in my hands
are no longer yours
i grope an empty room
feeling no walls
and floors
there is this first flight and i have no
fear
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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