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she                                                                           watched curlicues of sweeping clouds, and         loved                                                                how they painted the sky like van Gogh                    the                                                         Line of smudged charcoal smoke severed the                          (sky)                                                blue bodies apart.                                    when                                     The wind stroked her face.                                                  it                                was cold and woke her up.                                                      spilled                  Synapse after synapse                                                                  onto         Dream after dream.                                                                         the surface of the sun,                                                                                                  when it was almost, but not quite,                                                                          drowned by the sea                                                                                   = the most visible feeling she had seen.
0
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
She watched
she                                                                           watched curlicues of sweeping clouds, and         loved                                                                how they painted the sky like van Gogh                    the                                                         Line of smudged charcoal smoke severed the                          (sky)                                                blue bodies apart.                                    when                                     The wind stroked her face.                                                  it                                was cold and woke her up.                                                      spilled                  Synapse after synapse                                                                  onto         Dream after dream.                                                                         the surface of the sun,                                                                                                  when it was almost, but not quite,                                                                          drowned by the sea                                                                                   = the most visible feeling she had seen.
Toying with words.
emma
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
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