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Living in Circles

Close enough to feel like a stranger 
Any closer you'd be me: any closer would be mean
Silly to believe that me and cupids chapter closed
Yet the epic unfolds
Clouds erupt

I'm caught in a wind, words find their place in spaces left untouched
O the price for a flesh to hold 
Not pounds nor dollars but hearts for loan
In moments of meaning, joy exits her cardboard home
Packing up shop for the next poor, poor soul.

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