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Monday, April 2, 2018

Fine Lines

I think there's a fine line
between remembering and forgetting.
The clinging to and the letting go,
as with my body and its blood.

You sense there's a fine line
between sociopathy and buddhism.
The monk is not attached to her hair,
as you are not bound by reproduction.

She knows there's a fine line
between starting over and moving on.
The postcards have different names,
as her luggage waits by the door.

A NaPoWriMo prompt - http://www.napowrimo.net/day-two-5/

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