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As young girls
lying under the flowered roof
we played those school games.
I was 10 and you 12.
Your mother isn't here any more.
We can play as long as we want,
but we haven't any dinner.
“You are my sister,” she said.
“And your mother takes cocaine.”
We both played alone.
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Lacadalet Magazine
Literature Magazine is a place for poetry, prosa and art as a communication media among us. If you wish to express everything, you wish to be heard, visit our pages blog.lacadalet.cz and say to us, what you feel.
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