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get out of here.
i see
your “sand castles”
were built
with sticks and mud.
that’s cheating.

no warmth
resides there.

take
your charades and schemes,
your subtle manipulation,
your precious aloofness
and go, play in the dirt.
it seems to be
what you crave.

just go…
and take
your sticky, self-pity-crusted fingers
out of my sandbox.

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