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Jan 2020
Torpid though low nightly torments stay,
how lucky I am; to miss and bathe in dreams

Of absence through the dawn and into day.
From my far flung ship; I shall watch old islands

Sliding past while sadly silver streams-
from Heaven; fall in silence.
Written by
Thomas Wood  29/M/London
(29/M/London)   
137
     ---, Juneau and Carlo C Gomez
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