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Swept, clean in the arms of the wind like water through my fingertips, looking down a waterfall... It is cradled and crafted by the hands of my heart wrapped in a warm soft sweater of memories Clouds overcast my thought, pregnant with needles, raining on my skin, the air smells of rust; it's swelling and choking me, it poisoned my sleep... Then like a beautiful symphony heard once, it is gone. A meal digested. Like a violin solo, like a dreary concerto, a eulogy stuck in my head, my chest is anchored. My blood flows slowly. You'll find me, still hoisting the sail, braving the glaciers, the Krakens, but who would stay to join me in these seas?
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Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 3:41 PM UTC
Rough Water
Swept, clean in the arms of the wind like water through my fingertips, looking down a waterfall... It is cradled and crafted by the hands of my heart wrapped in a warm soft sweater of memories Clouds overcast my thought, pregnant with needles, raining on my skin, the air smells of rust; it's swelling and choking me, it poisoned my sleep... Then like a beautiful symphony heard once, it is gone. A meal digested. Like a violin solo, like a dreary concerto, a eulogy stuck in my head, my chest is anchored. My blood flows slowly. You'll find me, still hoisting the sail, braving the glaciers, the Krakens, but who would stay to join me in these seas?
rhianna-oreilly
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Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 3:41 PM UTC
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