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Poetry: Walking Rain

An angel walks across the street
Her fingers move through my hair
but I can’t feel her

Angels don’t exist in my world
No god does intervene
There I am still on the street
but no angel next to me

An angel walks across the street
Her wingtips grace the ground
but she’s just walking rain to me

-Loki.
(This was actually for a college poetry class, several years ago.)

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