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In Transition
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The Letters It wasn't easy
You did the shuffle, down the path
Hands in the backs of jean pockets
A serious stare at your moving shoes
An old lover knocked on your door today
Your mind was taken back.
Back to that cliff, where the ocean grumbled below,
her toes dangling off the edge,
her hair free in the wind,
her pale face nudged into her jacket,
her small fingers, silently fixated in yours
