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This park bench gets so cold, so worn. Sitting here perplexed by the motions, the grays, all in different shades; all going nowhere. This bench and I, we're friends; He's a little quiet, but he means well. I've been distant lately, removed. I'm not sure that he cares; at least, he doesn't show it. We both see things in the same way; all the gray wisps of condensation. Don't get me wrong, we both see color, but its rummy. we are always going to be the same temperature.
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 5:11 AM UTC
Gray Striations
This park bench gets so cold, so worn. Sitting here perplexed by the motions, the grays, all in different shades; all going nowhere. This bench and I, we're friends; He's a little quiet, but he means well. I've been distant lately, removed. I'm not sure that he cares; at least, he doesn't show it. We both see things in the same way; all the gray wisps of condensation. Don't get me wrong, we both see color, but its rummy. we are always going to be the same temperature.
MichaelWalker
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 5:11 AM UTC
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