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Jan 2013
Careful steps on a violin bow
I've heard I will reap what I sow
I never had a machine to teach me how to do so
Play under the trees and fantasize of Summer snow.

Are those teers of joy you are weeping, Willow?
I'll sleep under the stars with your dead daughters as my pillow
Reading wiggles everywhere I wander
Soaking in those puddles I ponder

Should I be concerned about these furrows getting deeper?
No, I'll envelope my worries in the folds of each wrinkle
Heavy skin quilts of freckled fuzzy flower pattern

Glistens drop off a window pain
Commencing suicide from their clouds of rain.

In this endless being, nothing else matters.
Lightening rips my quilt to tatters.
I am stripped down to my

PRIME PULSATING PATTERNS

I dance
As the electric currents
Carress my colors
We combine in ONEDER

Now there is another part of me holding the bow
I slide my hand and draw me as a note
Symphonic soap to cleanse murky souls
Dear
Written by
Dear
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