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Fog

damp morning fog,
blindly I stand.
All to be seen,
a figure.
 
aspiration
cloaked by mist
blinded as I
 
It approaches.
 
Near but still blind
it stands
 
With each breath it takes
fewer I draw
 
We freeze.
 
A hand outstretches
I hesitate
 
Take it.
 
“You are warm.
Gentle.
Strengthening.”
 
Mist fades.
 
My desperate grip too tight
it pulls backward
 
fleeting aspiration.
 
damp morning fog,
blindly I stand.
All to be seen,
a figure.
 
I am alone.

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