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Mar 2015
Grass-stained shirt hems,
     your mother's scrawl inside your collar, faded.
Scuffed knees,
     not quite bleeding.
Too far away from home,
     swimming in your reflection in your watery cup of tea.
Ripped up notebooks,
     a writer's love ignited.
Rough wine on the banks of the canal,
     crying, laughing, tumbling still.
Theodore Bird
Written by
Theodore Bird  London
(London)   
963
   Harrison Jude and Cellar D'or
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