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Oct 2012
The distance between my green boots
And the door
The distance between your well ****** mattress
And the floor.
The distance between your well played guitar
And my well played underwear.
The distance between your chartreuse chair, your favorite
And my favorite painting
You made it
The distance in beautiful images
And the image of me rotting
And the image of them squealing.
Written by
Claeys  Austin
(Austin)   
641
   Lily Mae
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