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I remember you standing in the full and easy living. wearing, that night, your slightest frock a conspiracy of breath. that collected, around your body, like the murmuration  of tiny birds a loose smothering of soft luminous folds smoldering like a dusky halo the merest graze of weave. a delicate trace of distance that clouded the sound of flesh the skirt fell like an ocean or a breeze rippling the rain onto the reach and flow of your limbs Like an old unwritten story from the dark earth and brimming sky it whispered a forgotten language in the rustle and sigh of dance
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
The Dress
I remember you standing in the full and easy living. wearing, that night, your slightest frock a conspiracy of breath. that collected, around your body, like the murmuration  of tiny birds a loose smothering of soft luminous folds smoldering like a dusky halo the merest graze of weave. a delicate trace of distance that clouded the sound of flesh the skirt fell like an ocean or a breeze rippling the rain onto the reach and flow of your limbs Like an old unwritten story from the dark earth and brimming sky it whispered a forgotten language in the rustle and sigh of dance
chris-weallans
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
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