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Mar 2013
Weighty! The above balances on my eyelids
They are held shut with tight fingers,
But soon they flicker
Dilate and are prised open to the whiteness
Shapes dance atop on it and spin
Induce such sickness
But they do not go; they hang over the
Desecration beneath, what remains after
The indulgence
I need an ocean to arrive here
Cooper Kalamat
Written by
Cooper Kalamat  Bournemouth, UK
(Bournemouth, UK)   
502
 
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