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Quicksand
par
Heather Woods Broderick
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There's a picture that you made Hanging where it's cold and raining If I could choose a tool, a spade Quicksand, a house, dirty floor, no maid It's been a few years We should have something to say In memory nothing but a pin did drop We should have something to save But your head was buried in the sand Our feet dug deep in One at the lake, one at the bay While in the sun we lay Memories, like bones, are bleached away There's a picture that you made Hanging where it's cold and raining If I could choose a tool, a spade Quicksand, a house, dirty floor, no maid Looked up toward the caves I saw a gull, it stayed With broken wings Fevered and dreaming of flying away I thought about you, your false pride, of love and shame... There's a picture that you made Hanging where it's cold and raining If I could choose a tool, a spade Quicksand, a house, dirty floor, no maid
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