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Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Slip (A Haiku Quatrain)

Tenuous at best
Tenably slipping, this grip
My fragile clasping

Through handfuls of air
Alone, awake and confused
Sanity suffers

Stretched tight and thin
Spirit on a tangled skein
Imperceptible

Desperate wailing
Crying in the dark of night
My faltering hand


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