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  • Writer's picturewhit


the ducks waddled up for bread "I have nothing for you" I said.

the gusty air my far off stare

I'm not a fool, winter isn't over but my hope seems to be an overexposure 

back to classes and homework away from my favorite artwork

seasonal sadness hit me too hard ​my thoughts for you have become avant-garde

yet somehow I don't even care ​what's the point of a love affair?

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