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a passing thought while bent over the arm of the sofa

nestled in this husk of half-light, we Are. you so very hauntingly swift and strong and me — so pantingly still. gripping. swinging into rest atop rumpled fabrics smoothing down far far into this suspended night’s end. rising we Are to this blue darkness through which lurks forever.
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Written by
elle-dougherty
American
Published
Feb 5, 2010
Lines·Words
11·48
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