Fluctuations
Maybe I was wrong
By ChrisAnn AllenPublished about a year ago • Updated about a year ago • 1 min read
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Photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash
“I don’t like her much…”
Slips and falls frozen she cries
When black means danger
She’s hot to the touch
Burning my tender skin so
It drifts from her view
Deep into the lake
Of her melting purview she
Swims to me quickly
I rethink her breath
“Could I have been wrong to judge
Something like a breeze?”
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About the Creator
ChrisAnn Allen
Former newspaper journalist gone rogue.
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