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At 10, An Old Dying Woman


I could not, at the time, comprehend the finality and severity of death in  itself

I looked over her, 

Wondering why somehow she was small and I was big.

I ate canned mandarin oranges,

Drowned in sweet syrup.

She grabbed my hand with gentle ferocity and announced herself.

I am Death!

I am Here!

Pay attention!

 
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