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(less red than)


What was built

Turned out to be

No more sturdy

Than the raindrop.

And though,

It had come so far

And knew storm and wind

It cracked open

Upon the window's pane.


From its structure

Trickled the essence

Smaller than the veins of a leaf

Less red than a wound.

And though,

It had disappeared

In a moment's moment,

It left behind

A shell as empty as mine.


                                                                                   ~~~ by Michael Chaussee



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