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Lone Ascensions.

With the final exhale,
she dies.

Yes, yes: just like all the rest.
Never with a closing inhale,
an end to draw me in,
to comfort me.

(I have been
built strong,
all for this
Tough Shit.)

No, she lets go.
In cold blood and an iron grip,
abandoning.

Growing
as the beauty
she is, so

far beyond me,
so far beyond me.

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