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Sometimes I dream of you you come to me faceless, dressed formally sitting as a man on the cusp of birth and death behind that ink black baby grand piano you love so much its edges well worn you float through the vast emptiness with no beginning or end and yet somehow your immense hands strike notes with an unyielding vehemence and passion, never repeating yourself. I will know you, if I have to spend all of eternity, I will know you.
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Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 12:38 PM UTC
Moving the Mover
Sometimes I dream of you you come to me faceless, dressed formally sitting as a man on the cusp of birth and death behind that ink black baby grand piano you love so much its edges well worn you float through the vast emptiness with no beginning or end and yet somehow your immense hands strike notes with an unyielding vehemence and passion, never repeating yourself. I will know you, if I have to spend all of eternity, I will know you.
william-fredrick-bissette
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Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 12:38 PM UTC
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