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Apr 2015
Air is no thing
Or so I thought
But it pushes
Gently, at my skin
Edging its way in
Through my pores
And in my veins
Sliding swiftly up
To brace my brain
Filling spaces
That once I thought
Was nothing
Sam Shoyer
Written by
Sam Shoyer  Washington, DC
(Washington, DC)   
   Ciel Noir
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