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i am a lot like sleeping laughter in faintly room warmer windows bound tightly with light's loosest fingers mingling with the atomized aroma of a basket of flowers dusted just with barely afternoon's short rumpled heat glaring in through the slight abrasion of sight I call my window peeling with fresh strums of Summer's fair cords singing me softly into the palm of night's tiny hands
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Jul 14, 2011
Jul 14, 2011 at 5:10 PM UTC
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i am a lot like sleeping laughter in faintly room warmer windows bound tightly with light's loosest fingers mingling with the atomized aroma of a basket of flowers dusted just with barely afternoon's short rumpled heat glaring in through the slight abrasion of sight I call my window peeling with fresh strums of Summer's fair cords singing me softly into the palm of night's tiny hands
patrick-wakefield-1
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Jul 14, 2011
Jul 14, 2011 at 5:10 PM UTC
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