I am sorry I could not remember
The name that you stole;
I have never been one to swallow rain.
My fingertips were holding tight
To my palm. I believed that to fight this
Would win you over.
My body likes to make fun of psychics like this
To prove that it can lose its own battles:
Nobody will tell me where I wind up.
Not until someone can tell me
Where I've been.
Tonight is a new kind of savior.
My breath is held
My knees are begging me
To stand.
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