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Untouchable
by Bailey Workman Someday, we’ll sit under the weeping willow, tears dried by carefree blossoms drifting in and out of a fuzzy breeze, laughing while we sink our teeth into the soft flesh of an overripe plum, juice falling off our smiling chins. And the world will bring us another eulogy with an expressionless gaze, but it wont be able to touch us any longer, the ear-splitting cries so distant, they sound like the gentle hum from a far-away radio. |
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