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edward palmquist

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this map you gave me

2007

So where do I go now?
This map you gave me is all but crumbled
like this world.
What good are these wings
without your guiding wind?
Writing these words has helped me
find my real self.
But I’m scared of the image I now see.
These thoughts are exposed now
leaving me drained.
If only I could still hear your voice
If only to fill me up.
These hands have grown weary
the promise grown horribly disfigured.

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