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May 2015
Overzealous and underdressed I have no home to call my own, so where has my benevolence gone? Am I an antiquity, am I a forgotten lost treasure of a long ago age where beauty explodes feverishly in a raw
******* ****?  Silken sunken memoirs deep within the pastings of grimy faced lullaby’s etched away in a dust covered passion book called familiar.
CLStewart
Written by
CLStewart  elsewhere
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   mark cleavenger
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