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stepping out of the way.

the snow came back, I felt it melt down my cold cheek.

It shivered my bones and in a n instant I was reminded of the cold days,

with the short hack job haircut, a tiny frame, lying in a fetal pose under piles of quilts.

Blue hands, I never want to see those blue hands.

so I must use these hands now, strong and able, to pull me out of the way

I clasp my hands in a shameful prayer, I know what he’ll tell me,

He’s been whispering it my ear all week.

He’ll tell me to step out of the way, to follow his stride

and he’ll sweep me off my feet and into a waltz step

I just have to make the first move.

So I pick up my lazy legs

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

stand close, I’m afraid of falling

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