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Jun 2012
Forgotten flesh behind cold walls,



pressing nose to steamed glass--


With weightless memories,
your ache hides within a dream
like whispers on a scream.


--playing moon games.

a black widow wrapping
flies is the only sound.

The silence roared like fire,
standing in the shadows of surrender...

etching goodbye in the mist.
redbarchettadrive
Written by
redbarchettadrive
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