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I will find you again,
Where I left you
With your hands.

Next to broken bottles
Abraded by sand
And churning water.

Where you played
Against the grain,
Met winds with pain

Of knowing
Too much
Too early.

Whose fingers
Came entangled
In what he learned.

See that I’ve changed,
Somewhat aged
By the wayside.

But still me.
I’ve escaped the current
Through the waves

I’m making to find you,
And remind you of
What you have forgotten.

Rob Pavacic

Author Rob Pavacic

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