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rut

I’m in my head

and it swims

against the currant

against the wind

I can’t get in

to see the reality of anything

there’s a sting that fouls my mood

a sharp reproach not cold but crude

bewildered I blank

shake the core of calamity

and swindle the cool breeze

that I wish I could ride

and be free

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About Rebecca Ahn

Writer. Producer. Editor. Warrior. And one Tough Cookie!

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