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Jun 2018
Into the arms of silence
the dusk is falling.

She wonders
how soft
may the night's skin be
where he is.

Empty corridors breathe cold blue moons.
Strangers speak in confessions unknown.
Certainty of solitude cuts through the dark.

And what color is the light?
Written by
Edera
  523
         sue, Rose, harlon rivers, kim, Puds and 18 others
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