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Were we not once love stood in abbey shadow and sun, were we not once lovers at the top of bowling alleys holding, having fun? As you showered, I bathed in the oeuvre of your aura opposite, thought of midnight scrambled eggs then bed and the coffee to keep it company. It’s then we woke to the Sunday cacophony of avocados on post, head to the second supplement in to learn of the best twelve coasts where good lovers go to live, where good lovers go to hide and give, where good love exists. If only the car wasn’t broken: second hand, forecourt pile of ****
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May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
THE GUARDIAN SATURDAY POEM
Were we not once love stood in abbey shadow and sun, were we not once lovers at the top of bowling alleys holding, having fun? As you showered, I bathed in the oeuvre of your aura opposite, thought of midnight scrambled eggs then bed and the coffee to keep it company. It’s then we woke to the Sunday cacophony of avocados on post, head to the second supplement in to learn of the best twelve coasts where good lovers go to live, where good lovers go to hide and give, where good love exists. If only the car wasn’t broken: second hand, forecourt pile of ****
coffeeshoppoems.com
tim-knight
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English
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
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