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in reply to jean's theory of asexuality

Once you ask me
Why I live among
The distant hills
I just smile
I do not make replies
I do not really care
I stare in your eyes
Like you are a river
And I have no fear
And my thoughts
Flow like leaves
Falling from tall, old,
Trees
Blown into the unknown
I realize and
You too must
I have a world of my own
Apart from yours
And the rest
Of Everyone.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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