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When the last ink spears have dried on the white blush of battlefield paper sheath the pointed crossed teeth of letters to whom was fashioned a vain likeness I can take no more poison and you have no more pigment to spare It rained between the heavy blankness in the fissures of a comma stained tear a mark, a year. The wasted hollows in the vowels of your syllables, were almost a crime. so I pulled myself into the void with a graceless sigh to hide in the drainpipe d's wait for that storm to pass. With a weary eye you travel the pupil shadow in a glazed nuance, I could never quite find a place for an eyelash moment. Was it tender? or a bruised sunset tattooed in a canvas of skin. In the river running though the banks of bone in your neck to the blockade of the doors of your mind. I find the crossing point at the maze created by your ear You rolled the silence around on your tongue a tornado breath amid the humid necklace of lightning.
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Jun 12, 2011
Jun 12, 2011 at 9:36 PM UTC
That ubiquitous mental note.
When the last ink spears have dried on the white blush of battlefield paper sheath the pointed crossed teeth of letters to whom was fashioned a vain likeness I can take no more poison and you have no more pigment to spare It rained between the heavy blankness in the fissures of a comma stained tear a mark, a year. The wasted hollows in the vowels of your syllables, were almost a crime. so I pulled myself into the void with a graceless sigh to hide in the drainpipe d's wait for that storm to pass. With a weary eye you travel the pupil shadow in a glazed nuance, I could never quite find a place for an eyelash moment. Was it tender? or a bruised sunset tattooed in a canvas of skin. In the river running though the banks of bone in your neck to the blockade of the doors of your mind. I find the crossing point at the maze created by your ear You rolled the silence around on your tongue a tornado breath amid the humid necklace of lightning.
Something I thought of during class while my mind wandered.. each paragraph is almost a new thought, with a thin tread connecting each.
my-name-here
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Jun 12, 2011
Jun 12, 2011 at 9:36 PM UTC
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