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    When a Bullet Strikes the Rain

    When a Bullet Strikes the Rain Vanishing, one following the next Eyes squint at the dark Droplets sizzle with staccato Speed equates to the sear A path laced with intent Quaking, she envisioning the casket Finger flicks from the trigger Fabric unweaves with requiescence Choices lead to outcomes Are all paths laced with intent Shattering, both losing the memory Air blasts from lungs Skin rends without discourse Pain asks what is between What paths are not laced with intent Hating, he admonishing the regret Pistol falls from grip Lead digs without remorse Fragments dissolve to void Intent pervades even after death

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