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Sep 2012
……..I hear beleaguered colors…live the words of yet unsaid…..see the ***** that lingers upon the back road… with its uneven tread…. and left black ink to paper pose…. that mingles in my mind…..and hear a chant of lullabies…. and in this light of darkness find…. the scattering letters of the globe and place them with a stroke upon the parchment in my palm….. then know for certain who I am not and thus know who I am…….
Edgar Whitman Wilde
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
456
   victoria
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