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Sunday, February 8, 2015

wine whip hollow winds around these trees

Ive had several days like these

sunless...on the verge of steaming

makeshift hollow tents

sun surges like teaching

brainless..narrow lips...kisses keep me stainless


on the verge of dropping out

falling into the ground

swallowed by the burial mound


like maybe one day this heart will give out

all will be forgiven

nothing will be cast in the shadow of doubts

simple musings are the only thing I grasp at now

sound tracked to the sound of crying out

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