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Jun 2015
Arrows your choir.
Release.  
In come high soaring melodies
The air bathes in their aromas
A disguise for incoming piercings.

One strike upon the next.
Perseverance bleeds from every wound.
First it trickles
Now it pours.
When struck again
Please find my head or my throat.
Kenneth Everett Rathburn
1.3k
   Viola
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