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Fire

AILING CONTOURS

As I roll down her cheek, I stop to listen to the pores in her skin. They speak to me of grief in her heart. A grief that sighs so mournfully that even I, a single tear, am burdened by its heaviness. Each time I journey down her face I trace the contours of what ails her. Today she remembers the man she had believed would be by her always, but who left one day without looking back.