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Jun 2016
nearing time

a ring of stars told me the future is
the sea that you try to grasp with
your broken hands and the past will
not be changed it is stained with rust
and flotsam as your inside ebbs like
the mossed ruin in the dunes as salted
grass fails to grow as the wind shakes
the waves you are alone and alone
Written by
Leslie Philibert  63/M/Germany
(63/M/Germany)   
256
   Balaguer and Madeline Clow
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