by Pattie Flint
the night you came home is the night
I left it; walking barefoot in snow I
wasn't afraid of. The water was too
hot last night; and you were too honest.
I didn't want to know what you thought
because you think I don't exist; I am
no survivor, I am a tiger in a circus train
shivering as the snow falls down and
washes away my painted fool stripes.
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