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The first time you called while I was in the room, I felt her race past me to get to you.

And I won’t forget.

Cradled in her daughter's arms, this time you came more gently.

And I won’t forget.

Years later I saw you force a grown man screaming to his knees, and I won’t forget.

Then came the night that you showed me your face.

You came to call before you took him.

And I am trying to forget.

© Elizabeth McLaughlin


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