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poetry

Footsteps

I’ve walked a lifetime alone
My own steps echoing down empty hallways
In abandoned tunnels
On barren streets

You passed by me so many times
In other tunnels; other hallways
Streets parallel

But one day the road turned
(Mine or yours I do not know
Nor do I care)
And there we met
Two singular objects
Nowhere to go but forward

Take my hand
(I’ll take yours)
Hold it
(Tight)
Let’s find a new way
A new path

Let’s make footprints
Through mud and sand
And wet concrete

Let’s make footsteps
That echo only for (never against)
each other

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

November 2013
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