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He Was That Dragon |
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And my skeletal infrastructure had long been since burnt out before he came and blew his fire all over the house. Only supporting beams standing. There I sat drinking tea on the front steps to an empty foyer while flowers blossomed up from the foundation into what once was my living room. I watched dandelion cotton float on the wind and counted each wish for each word of me. I sat, I sipped on these steps and I tried to forget. At night I would sleep in the yard and watch the fireflies hum, and one, you, would buzz down toward me and whisper hisses, "You should write it like thissssss." My firebug, my mini breathing dragon. I kissed you on the nose you said, "I will burn you," I said, "It's a little late for that, no?" |
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