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Odd Year

Over the hill and in look back
at used to be land. It was there
where the joys were sparse like
fireflies on a dank summer night.
The heat had a bite that crushed
the soul. There are welts of 
pain both given and received.
The salt of tears yours and mine
Burning craters where love
could not have been. This side
of the hill lies years and just
knowing that it ends somewhere.
Birthdays are different now


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