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Jan 2013
All the leaves are turning
gray as your blue eyes
were on me across the room
watching the door close on
my skull. I felt the thought
weigh down on my feet as
I sank to the bottom of your
lung, filled with sand and water.
(Escape.) Now
floating to the surface of your
eyelids to see your face
turn left towards the
bloodshot sky.
Chris Rodgers
Written by
Chris Rodgers  Indiana
(Indiana)   
552
   M Hughes, Timothy and Anon C
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