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The Writer

by Gerardo Mena

  • Do you remember the morning
  • we awoke and you asked,
  • why do you love me?
  • I stretched and flexed my arms as hard as I could.
  • I cut my palm to the bone and smeared
  • I love you
  • on the wall above our bed.
  • Do you remember the morning
  • we awoke and you asked,
  • why do you love me
  • as you left?
  • I whispered
  • because it is written,
  • but it wasn’t.



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