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Feb 2016
the ***** of your chin is
nothing will numb you more
than the epitome of nothingness
soft collared shirts and grey-scale jeans
I feel music in you
like water
abounding with reluctance
here I stand
gently begging you to
be deafening.

chanting silently
we are here we were here

with pale long dancing fingers I am
certain that the end is not near
nor will it ever be
for you
this is not what ur thinking
sweet ridicule
Written by
sweet ridicule
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