Address

It all ends up in the landwash
out with the tide
in with the times
over there, with your emotions.
Bent at the knees, begging for direction
we’re iron clad (with our devotion)
Not as black and white as wrong or right
I just write –
I just wanted to be a woman of letters
But the problem is..
I’ve forgotten your address.

M.

Say anything.

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