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Mar 2012
Wanderlust
Eerie lights bob and weave through twilight mist
The exotic scents of Cajun spice and sweet *** linger
Quiet
Breathing deep bayou heavy air
Settling moistly into clove filled lungs
Chicory sends all the senses ablaze
The skies are big here
Brilliant constellations loom over scattered thoughts
Impressive and singular in their silent sentinel forms
A slowly ebbing tide recedes
It's 3am. The time when dreams die.
Leaving is a constant urge but I always come back
Head stone cold and porous against my tired spine
I've been walking a while
Never really knowing what the night will bring
Always hoping it's winding road will lead to you
Wanderer
Written by
Wanderer  Between Midnight and 3am
(Between Midnight and 3am)   
1.3k
     Wanderer, Brandon, nima mohan, victoria and ---
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