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Plunge, Plunge deep. Feel the layers of soapy creek-beds, Cross sections of the torrent, Seep, Watch the silent film, As the sky divides into fantasy, Light intended for your child-like eyes. Fall, Into a graceful autumn, Where the corn smells and the wind picks up, Where day-break questions existence. Sink, The expanse is waiting, She sits in a blue velvet chair holding her head, Counting the ticks 'till midnight on her golden clock. Trust me, And dive. For I am vast and empty, And far from shallow.
0
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
...And the spirit of god moved upon the face of the waters...
Plunge, Plunge deep. Feel the layers of soapy creek-beds, Cross sections of the torrent, Seep, Watch the silent film, As the sky divides into fantasy, Light intended for your child-like eyes. Fall, Into a graceful autumn, Where the corn smells and the wind picks up, Where day-break questions existence. Sink, The expanse is waiting, She sits in a blue velvet chair holding her head, Counting the ticks 'till midnight on her golden clock. Trust me, And dive. For I am vast and empty, And far from shallow.
israel-baker
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
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