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Apr 2016
She immortalises me in
pictures of
poetry
I live forever in
her times.

It was bitingly cold at the
fold of the day,
the sun was tucked up
for the night.

Shadows escaped from the
candle lit room and wandered
through corridors to find me,
locked in by the words of her
poetry.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
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