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Dec 2017
morning light floods the room.
ocean songs spill the walls.
your body is a violin,
of foreign curves and hidden clefts.
O weeping flesh!
O sweet wild music!
i cannot swim,
i bow the string,
i am the wind.

O how we drown,
amoung the sounds,
our bodies sing.
Blake
Written by
Blake
178
     Blake and ---
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