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Jun 2016
Place oil in the reservoir.
Along with the windows,
the meat will last longer.

A prison of forgotten & soon to be unforgiven loans.

You ride ahead alone, without that satchel you've forgotten at the bar, now attached to me by the hip.
I'll remain alone also, searching for a single strand of your precious hair.

Those lights and sirens, explain them to me.

You speak to me of love,
"With love."
You say.

I know a time where force projected its threatened weakness,
but not with you by my side.



Nor I, yours.


Amor.
Tragedy.
Robert Carroll Spear
Written by
Robert Carroll Spear  ...
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