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Nov 2018
This spread of paper          so cold that
      my tongue-tip    aches-freezing
the    dense flowing words    as ice
    down the ***** by gravity

Katabatic attack
    relentlessly      for weeks
My preception --whiteout;
rain, snow, hail, sleet.
    Precipitation always
measured by soul & pain

:: 12312015 ::
EP Robles
Written by
EP Robles
  365
 
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