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Jan 2015
Phonological loops,
again, again, again,
promises about change.

No semantic processing,
just a shallow layer of gold
topped with dust.

It's because I'm stuck for what seems like an eternity
in this 'awake at night fraternity'
where I do everything and loneliness is king
of all the dancing parts where one is forced to sing.
Where is the dock of the bay?
I have some sitting to do.
Daan
Written by
Daan  Belgium
(Belgium)   
893
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