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Jul 2017
I am afraid of the way need
Grasps my very bones
I cannot contain this emergency
Screeching through the fissures of burgeoning intent
These irretrievables
Release and tighten
The elusive alchemy of balance
The havoc it wrecks on the senses
All these feet can do
Is chase the wind
Frail hand's outstretch
In the static of melancholy
The Noose
Written by
The Noose  32/F/Standing on the gallows
(32/F/Standing on the gallows)   
  389
       Born, Weeping willow, Pax, ---, Timothy and 1 other
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