Tears
Call me soon,
but he doesn't.
So I call
and it's a disaster.
Anger begets anger.
And I'm sorry, so sorry.
For hoping that time will heal.
It hasn't been long enough.
What a difference a night makes?
And tears, many tears.
We are speaking, not sniping
at each other.
The rift, the tear
isn't yet healed.
But we are on the mend.
Day 9: call me
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