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January 22, 2013
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my breath was like dropping cold
keys on a colder kitchen counter. i was gray
with an a for a day when you went
a way. on your own you trumpeted
the clouds and sent for "Los Angelos"
as your mexicana abuela would say-a.

you asked me what
to do with my
mother's china set. throw it away. i said,
burn it. you did not
ask me about this.

it's ,
not o-
kay. babe i loved you a long time
but i can't very well so humor me eh
:iconrussianscimitar:
RussianScimitar Featured By Owner Jan 23, 2013
Nice use of a simile there. I like how you decided to use that in your poem; The simile of breath being like cold keys is quite good.
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