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Jan 2015
Precious things line leave's shadows .
Late thinking, I run my hands across my face .
Ready mother? Strong help,
She lied she's anxiety, deserves black care
Spreading out of reach.
Rest for years past belly times.
World's sun holds.
Follow the happy feelings.
Look and touch bones,
It's lonely.
There's a glowing bog
And my questions seed the mountain's fingers.
Something Simple
Written by
Something Simple
493
   Eudora
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