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Gasoline

January 18, 2010

I burn like gasoline on water, my anger smoky and blazing, difficult to smother in the moment. It rides on top of my stillness underneath. Part of me swims under it, looking up at the billowing rage, and wonders how everything sizzled out of control so quickly. Another part of me knows I’m the one who gets careless with the fuel.

“Patience,” says the woman with the peaceful soul, taking my singed hands in her own. “If you don’t learn it now, then when?”

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