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She'll never know Seven years, six hundred miles, now only a playground fence separates us. I watch her. Long blonde pigtails, scraped knees, jumping rope, shooting baskets, running, giggling, innocent, alive. A picture of my own childhood, she does not see me watching, wondering at my decision. The fence reminds me: she is not mine; she'll never know she was. She's unaware of her confused origin, but my tears remind me I cannot erase the facts. |
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