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Touch Down

by Christina Mbuya


The Past

   Doesn't Last.

   Does it, sweet Girl?

   The Past

   Feels like a cast

   And a tornado's first twirl.

   He dances.

   And He moves.

   And He kisses your cheek.

  That tornado will pick you up

   And drop you at your peak.

   The Past is a man, this I am sure.

   And for every man, a lady needs a cure. 


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