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Jan 2017
I want to breath in
a sweet cotton air.
Moments of ones mind
stretching forth
elegant and divine.

A piano drips like rain,
Reverberating above the soul,
while frequencies dance
across nerves full of static.

Pangs and woes,
weigh heavy upon my shoulders,
too broad and too weak,
to carry much more.

Life's burden weighs down
the branches of trees,
their fruits bruised against the ground
turn sour by the first rain.
One must tend to lifes terms

Contracts laid down in cosmic fibers,
Guides the flow of time.
If time could be streatched,
The structure of the universe
would appear like a roadmap,
Expanding and contracting,
Like the heartbeat of time


Tic...

Toc...
Odd feelings about an odd set of people, emotions and experiences.
Eliza Fairchild
Written by
Eliza Fairchild  Ithaca
(Ithaca)   
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