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We sat an’ didn’t like the sweetcorn, nor the forks, the moon had no quarrel. The sun had no bite with the wallpaper. Black, Black the salted air drifted The colour scented with the taste of chip’s n’ vinegar

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Written by

bruce-ruston

For You?

Written by

bruce-ruston

Published

Feb 8, 2015

Time

1m

Tags: #poetry #chips #vinegar

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