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bathE  

tyred child
i krack and POP!
intoo the warmmm milkk waters of creammee trankwillitee
hearing only a distant breathing echoing off the tiles
witch, i faintlee wreckognize az meye own
aend wh/aisle my thoughts have grown littlE
mI body no longer slides so innocently, so gracefully
but must fold itself uncomfortably into the tuB
like a butterfly attempting to return to the cocoon
hoping to soak uP its plezant past

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