dirties quickly without a smiling voice's
pure water to wash salty residue
away, too many tears to count.
Light dims, almost shut out altogether,
dark curtain falling for perhaps the
last time. Light, life, love
cries to be set free, shudders beneath
the weight, screams until
someone on the other side peeks around
the edge, fingers appear, a smile, familiar eyes.
You okay in there?
Anything I can do?
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012
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