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Sep 2015
love, blue passions
spiralling into the night.

we carve ourselves out
of emptiness,
drift where the moon
wanders into the night.

there are no dead leaves,
summer lingers in
the trees, splashes
pools of golden moon
onto the floor.

i can hear your heart-beat,
so soft, so beautiful
that the night whispers
sweet songs to the sky.
beth fwoah dream
Written by
beth fwoah dream  England
(England)   
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