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Though the sentence may end, the ink carries on. The cartridge seems vacant of wanton metaphors. Exhibiting reflections on soiled paper cups, wanting to be filled with drinkable dictations of what is spelt out in stains. But I spilt that void long ago, blemishing my shirt with what meant to be drank upon. A decolouration of meaning read differently.
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Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 5:45 PM UTC
When Sentences End
Though the sentence may end, the ink carries on. The cartridge seems vacant of wanton metaphors. Exhibiting reflections on soiled paper cups, wanting to be filled with drinkable dictations of what is spelt out in stains. But I spilt that void long ago, blemishing my shirt with what meant to be drank upon. A decolouration of meaning read differently.
poetic-t
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Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 5:45 PM UTC
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