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Nov 2015
Holy smokes I am losing my cool
Wrapped up in tatters in what I would
Call a ****** up existence
But I do what I do
And a can what I can
So I can preserve what I need
To survive
My feet coil together
Small toes against small toes
Rhythmatically sensing one another
In a calming motion
Allowing the electric to go someplace

This is when I wish I had a pen
To let you know this is an honest letter
From me to you
Something rare and raw and pure
Something so rare
Billy the kidd Kelly
463
   Cecil Miller and SPT
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